


Twelve Years Ago

by Zab43



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Caring Hastur, Childbirth, Christmas, Demons at Christmas Ch45, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hastur has issues, Hellhounds, I know…but he is, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Lots of Sex, Maggots, Mental Heath Issues, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Sub/Dom During Pregnancy, Threesome - F/M/M, What happens when I'm signed off work for months, body image issues, brief rape/non-con late on, food/cooking, loss of a child, past trauma, sex during pregnancy, this is very long, whips and bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 51
Words: 168,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zab43/pseuds/Zab43
Summary: Hastur and Ligur come up to earth to collect a soul and things go awry with far reaching consequences.Kind of a prequel - started off wondering where Hastur and Ligur got the Antichrist baby from in the first place and things spiralled out of control from there.This is a long story involving: lots about Hastur (who I'm a bit/a lot obsessed with), lots about original character(s), lots of sex, BDSM, relationships, lots of demonic bureaucracy, lots of demons, lots about Hell, torments, justice and vengeance. There is a fair amount of smut, but also a plot and some character development and introspection.The story completes at chapter 50 - that was all I wrote originally, but now there is an extra chapter (51) as a ‘bonus’ for anyone who’s interested in the continuation. Ch51 was my chance to give Hastur his very own ‘spawn’ and include 'special guest appearances' from Aziraphale and Crowley (not tagged because they’re only in the bonus chapter so it would be a bit mean to raise expectations by tagging them).
Relationships: Hastur (Good Omens)/Original Female Character(s), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur/Original Character, Hastur/Original Character
Comments: 86
Kudos: 22





	1. The Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when my mental health means I'm signed off work for months. I genuinely have an obsession with Hastur, sorry/not sorry, just a bit obsessive I'm afraid...

Hastur and Ligur were not having much luck. They were up on earth to check in on one of Hastur's souls - purchased a few years back in return for a few convenient deaths, a title, a diplomatic post and a pretty wife suitable to organise career promoting parties. There were a few caveats in the contract and they wanted to check up on him. They'd picked up an address he was meant to be at from the Earth Observation Office and popped up nearby. However they'd almost immediately hit an obstacle in the shape of a short stout footman who wouldn't let them into the house.

They'd emerged from the flowerbeds and seen there was some sort of party going on. They'd smartened up their appearance to fit the general theme, Hastur grumbling about the scratchy shirt he’d had to turn his own well-worn soft shirt material into. They miraculously added their names to the guest list and conjured up a couple of invitation cards. But the footman at the door wasn't checking the list and wouldn't look at the invitations, just insisted they weren't invited. The crowds of other guests milling around made it too awkward to simply use a miracle at this point - unless they threw a lot of power at it people would notice and they didn't want to waste more energy this early on.

After several minutes of failed persuasion they were really starting to lose it. Ligur had got to the stage where he'd even used the inevitably unsuccessful ‘do you know who I am?’ line. Hastur looked like he was about to set the footman alight and tempers on all sides were fraying rapidly. A circle of bemused guests had gathered watching the entertainment and both demons were feeling rather exposed. At this juncture a tall woman in a iridescent greeny-blue dress of shot silk arrived. Clearly she held some sway as the gathered guests fell back to let her through. She tucked her long dark hair behind her ears and took in the situation, looking Hastur and Ligur up and down.

"What were the names William?" she asked the red faced footman. "Ahem, 'dukes' Hastur and Ligur ma'am". He stared defiantly at Ligur adding "they won't say where they are dukes of and the names do not appear in Debretts". Even Hastur and Ligur were bright enough not to say they were Dukes of Hell.

"We're on the list" growled Ligur as Hastur pushed his now grubby invitation card in the woman's direction "see, it says 'Duke Hastur'" he said, as if that decided the matter. She waived it aside.

"Ah yes, I recognise the names. From Slovenia or Serbia I think, somewhere Balkan anyway. Friends of Lord Carradine aren't you?" This last comment addressed to Hastur.

He grinned widely before agreeing "yeah, he knows us".

"Come with me" she said confidently waiving the pair past the em-purpled footman. "He really should have let you know they were coming William, it's too bad" she threw out, mollifying him slightly.

She led them through the main reception hall but didn't stop at the ballroom, instead leading them to a quiet study at the back of the property.

As soon as the door closed behind them her breezy demeanour changed. "Right you two, listen to me. I saw you hanging about the rose garden earlier. As you were so confident about it I assume you managed to get your names on the guest list somehow, but William can't read without his glasses so was going from memory. That means you weren't on the list this morning and Lord Carradine is still out of the country so he didn't add you. What exactly are you after?"

Hastur and Ligur stared in surprised silence through this speech. Ligur was the first to recollect himself. "Here to find 'im" he said laconically. "Lord Carradine?" she asked, "yup" confirmed the other. "Well he's not here and I sincerely doubt he'll put in an appearance". The woman paused eyeing them speculatively "but I've got an idea, how about we do a deal?" At the word 'deal' the two demons pricked up their ears. They understood deals, deals usually ended well for them.

The proposal was a simple one. Lenore, for that was the woman's name, professed to hating this sort of society party. Her husband was away and the prospect of drunken public school yahoos making passes at her all night did not appeal. So, she would ensure they weren't thrown out and give them details of Lord Carradine's whereabouts if, in return, they agreed to chaperone her for the rest of the party.

"What's chaperone mean?" said Ligur suspiciously. "Keep me entertained, drink, dance, chat that sort of thing. No strings attached, no-one gets hurt, we all walk away happy. Deal?” The two considered the prospect. "How longs this thing going on for?" Ligur asked. Cocking her head to one side she considered "Pretty late and I can't decently leave until say 1am. So if you stick by me until then? Sound reasonable?"

Although it was Ligur who'd asked the question her remarks were clearly addressed to Hastur. "Free booze" he said, his dark irises shining expectantly. "As much as you can drink and still stay upright" confirmed the woman. "So we keep you busy 'til 1, get free food and booze and you tell us where he is?" Ligur summarised trying to take back control of the situation. Lenore replied, again addressing Hastur exclusively, "exactly, although if you pass out or bugger off early you owe me - you don't get something for nothing here" she warned. "Fair enough" he agreed.

Her next move took both demons by surprise. She insisted on grabbing a woman in from the hallway, whose name was apparently Annabelle, and asked her to witness the 'deal'. Lenore solemnly shook hands with Hastur while Annabelle watched baffled. This was, of course, proper form for making a binding deal with a demon. On conclusion of the handshakes the air fizzed with a slight static confirming the pact was now enforceable. Neither thought to question how she knew the right ritual, neither cared, it seemed a fair exchange.

Annabelle drifted off towards the main party and the three of them watched her leave. Hastur made eye contact with Lenore creasing his brow and shuffling a little awkwardly. "What now?" he demanded a little too loudly. She sidled up to him taking his arm in hers "lets get drunk" she suggested. The two of them headed out with Ligur trailing behind.

The ballroom was loud and overly warm. Tables were arranged around one side of the dance-floor and a cluster of sofas lined the walls of a separate area off to one end. This area still commanded a full view of the dance-floor, but had clearly been a separate room before the wooden partitions had been pushed back. Lenore headed that way. Drinks were being offered in the main room on silver trays carried by discrete staff in maroon uniforms. Lenore secured a couple of glasses in passing for her and Hastur indicating Ligur should help himself. Ligur took two glasses, downed one and helped himself to a third glaring at the waitress, daring her to object. This sort of behaviour was de de rigueur for an event like this so the waitress just smiled serenely gliding off to another group of guests.

Lenore steered them unerringly across the busy room waving vaguely at various people as she went. She secured a three seater sofa and took the middle seat. Hastur and Ligur sat down either side of her. Both were a little baffled by the whole process. Ligur welcomed the relatively inconspicuous location and relaxed, lounging back in his seat, a drink in either hand. Hastur sat bolt upright clutching his wine glass in front of him like a shield. Neither were used to being seen by large numbers of humans in a brightly lit room and he was not at all comfortable with it.

"You can smoke here" Lenore told Hastur in a reassuring tone, indicating the free standing ashtray to the right of the sofa. He didn't question how she knew he was desperate for a smoke. His hand felt for his pocket before remembering his change of clothes. He started patting his new, empty, suit pockets hoping to find some cigarettes, too disconcerted to think of miracling a packet. Lenore chuckled reaching for a gold box on a low table in front of them and offering it to Hastur. He opened it cautiously, took a dark coloured cigarette out and sniffed at it suspiciously before realising that without hell-fire he had no way of lighting it. He jumped up in surprise as an older man with a droopy moustache leaned in to offer him a light.

"Why thank you General Freeborne" Lenore filled in for Hastur. "General Freeborne meet his grace Duke Hastur". She leant towards the General adding in a low whisper just loud enough for Hastur to hear "knows Lord C. Foreign". The General eyed Hastur dubiously but said in loud hearty voice "delighted to meet you, spiffing do; what?" before retreating hastily to the opposite end of the smoking room. Lenore waved at his retreating back as he hurried away leaning into Hastur as she did so and whispering in his ear "He's an awful bore, but I have to keep him onside. Luckily he abhors foreigners otherwise he'd have talked for hours". Before he could think of replying Lenore had leant back turning to Ligur and putting a hand on his shoulder. She said confidingly "don't look now but that's the Dowager Marchioness of what-do-you-call-it trying to ensnare young Percy of the foreign office. 60 if she's a day and desperate to get her talons on another young man. Simply scandalous what she did with the last one". Ligur looked at the older, but still handsome, Dowager but couldn't see any talons.

Things continued in the same vein for a while. The gossip and scandals of high society and diplomatic circles pouring out. Lenore seemed to know and dislike everyone she saw with an intimate knowledge of their inner secrets to boot. Ligur drifted in and out collecting more drinks for them as Lenore's remarks were addressed more and more exclusively to Hastur. At one point she put her hand on his knee and, as he turned, startled by her touch, she made eye contact saying in a meaningful voice: "I'm sure you don't mind the gossip, probably helpful in your line of work to get the inside track on everyone's besetting sins, eh?" Hastur grinned suddenly seeing a point to all the talk and started paying a lot more attention, even throwing out the odd question.

After a time it became obvious to Ligur that he was being excluded from the conversation so he decided to take a proper look round. After a couple of circuits of the room Lenore grabbed his hand pulling him down to her head height. "There's a games room across the hall. Ex-military types mostly, if you say you're on leave from active service and it's all a bit hush-hush no-one will question you" she said helpfully. Ligur realised he was being dismissed and shuffled off across the dance-floor glancing back at Hastur and Lenore, heads together deep in conversation.

They'd finished their drinks a while back and had been sitting on the sofa, chatting away quite amiably, when Lenore suddenly suggested they went to dance. Hastur looked at her blankly, then recollecting her description of the role of 'chaperone' stood up leaning forwards to offer her his hand. Beaming at him Lenore took it and they walked into the main room. Softened up with several glasses of wine Hastur felt a little less awkward in the open space of the dance-floor. As they reached the middle of the floor a few couples were dancing around them. Still a bit diffident he nonetheless pulled Lenore into a half embrace reaching for her free arm with his other hand.

It became rapidly apparent that Hastur, while enthusiastic, was a terrible dancer. Even though the floor was half empty he managed to barge into other couples, his steps were out of sync and his moves tended towards the weirdly ostentatious. While some people would have found this embarrassing, Lenore seemed delighted. She threw out apologies to everyone they hit and matched some of Hastur's stranger twirls and arm waving making it look almost choreographed. Admittedly choreographed by someone who knew nothing about dancing, but it gave their performance a certain bizarre style. In fact several people stopped dancing altogether just to watch. As they bounced off another couple and came to rest against a table they even garnered a desultory round of applause.

Demons are immune to social embarrassment and Hastur wasn't one for subtlety so he took the applause at face value giving a unsteady bow. Lenore was breathing hard after the exertions and suggested they take a break and check on Ligur.

A miasma of stale smoke and sour sweat hung heavily in the games room. Numerous large men with bulging arm muscles and close cropped hair grunted at each other. They glared resentfully at Lenore - this was clearly not a place for 'the ladies'. Hastur spotted Ligur who seemed happy enough. He was playing snooker for what looked like fairly high stakes and stood with a brandy snifter in one hand and a cue in the other, speculatively eyeing the crowd. He raised his glass to Hastur then turned back to watch his opponent take his shot. Lenore backed them out into the hall. "Looks like he's fitting in" she said "why don't we try the buffet?" Hastur nodded, not sure what a buffet was but keen to keep Lenore onside.

'Buffet' turned out to mean food. A long table with plates of small expensive looking delicacies, sandwiches on posh bread cut into tiny pieces and a bowl of incongruous looking crisps. Lenore passed Hastur an empty plate. He took it but made no move towards the food. Lenore took the lead demonstrating for him how to load his plate with food using the silver tongs provided. Hastur loaded his plate with a mix of sweet and savoury dropping a handful of crisps on top. Lenore grinned at him chuckling slightly. Hastur was unsure what she found funny so just returned the smile. Her own plate remained relatively empty, mostly holding some little pancakes with tiny black balls on them. "Caviare" she explained. "Disgusting, but might as well get my money's worth".

They found a couple of chairs at the back and sat eating in silence for a few minutes. Food consumed Lenore collected yet more drinks in tall thin glasses this time. "Champagne" she told him. "We're early enough to get the good stuff too. Lord C gets them to switch it for cheap crap after about 11, says no one cares by that time". Hastur decided he liked champagne. The bubbles made him belch loudly earning disapproving stares from a few people. Lenore looked at him with a slight smile "It's refreshing to spend time with someone who doesn't give a shit. So much more fun than the usual bores". Hastur smiled back, he thought he was getting the hang of this chaperone lark.

Feeling a bit more relaxed he decided to ask about Lord Carradine. Lenore wrinkled her brow not looking pleased. "Well, if you want to talk business I suppose we can but lets go somewhere more private". She led him out of the buffet room back towards the study but swerved off at the last minute and headed up a flight of stairs. Hastur followed wondering if he'd spoiled something with his question, but then remembered spoiling things was in a demon's job description and decided not to care.


	2. Please Don't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Kiss to First Orgasms

At the top of the stairs Lenore unlocked a door and invited him in. Once the door was shut and locked behind him she turned to face him, a strange look in her eye. She stood looking at him for a bit longer than was comfortable before saying "look, this is a bit of a silly question, but are you a demon?"

Hastur felt this was indeed a silly question and said "yes" without thinking about it. Lenore looked embarrassed and said "I'm sorry to seem suspicious, but can you prove it?"

Hastur was dumbfounded, he'd never been asked to prove he was a demon before. He looked askance at Lenore then shrugged and waved a hand dispelling the illusion of a smart suit revealing his usual scruffy attire, fished a rollie from his pocket and lit it with a fiery hand. Lenore let out a sigh. Strangely enough, she seemed relieved.

"So you *are* here to kill my husband" she said matter of factly. Hastur was confused. "We're here to check up on Lord Carradine, see how he's getting along, I'm not killing anyone yet" he explained.

Lenore blurted out sentences in quick succession: "Carradine is my husband. He's in breach of his contract. That's why he skipped the country. That's why I let you in. Your name is 'Hastur, Duke of Hell' isn't it? He got everything he asked for. Why aren't you going to kill him?"

Hastur had never been asked why he wasn't going to kill someone before. It startled him. "I could kill someone else if you'd like" he offered. She pursed her lips looking irritated: "if you're not going to kill him that's not fair, it's false pretences, I'll sue". He finally caught up with what she'd said early. "He's in breach of his contract" Hastur repeated slowly.

"I thought that's why you were here" said Lenore. "It is now" Hastur growled in his best demoniacally threatening voice.

Lenore looked relieved again. "Great, I'll give you the bastard's address then. Just one thing first". She rapidly closed the distance between them and before Hastur could react she plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it into an ashtray on a nearby table. Then she took hold of his coat, pulled him towards her and kissed him.

Obviously he'd kissed humans before. In the early idealistic days, when Hell was meant to be an 'egalitarian state free from the tyranny of god' and they all took Satan’s slogan: 'liberty, evility, fidelity' to mean freedom and loyalty to each other, they'd shared the work equally. No hierarchy, no big boss telling everyone to do. When they'd decided to avenge themselves on god by spoiling her newly created humans they'd all mucked in together. Hastur had done his fair share of 'lust' along with everything else. Over time, as some demons became more equal than others, he'd moved into a more supervisory role. Still did a share of temptations, all demons did, but he got to pick and choose. Wrath was his favoured sin, he'd occasionally mix things up and did enjoy the essential sordidness of most lustful encounters, but it wasn't really his thing. Basically, he was a bit out of practice when it came to kissing a human.

It didn't really matter as his brain had shut down as soon as her lips touched his. He felt incapable of moving, but at the same time found he was responding instinctively. It felt like he was standing outside of his own body watching what he was doing, unable to control it. He watched lazily as his arms grabbed Lenore pulling her in even closer, saw his eyes half close and his mouth open. As he moved his tongue into her mouth it touched hers and he felt like he'd been struck by lightning. She tasted different to demons, sweeter and less metallic, it was a lot nicer than he remembered. The out-of-body feeling suddenly disappeared and the world sped up again.

He swung the pair of them around and shoved Lenore into the wall. He'd pushed a lot harder than he intended, but the loud bang didn't seem to phase her. She didn't even break contact, just tightened her grip on his coat. He pressed himself firmly against the full length of her body, pinning her to the wall. His tongue made exploratory darts into her mouth tasting her hungrily. At some point he'd started growling and Lenore made a soft whining noise in response. His hands started their own exploration and he was pulling up her dress before he realised what he was doing. His hands dug into her hips pulling forward while his mouth pushed her head harder into the wall.

Demons can sense what humans are feeling and what he could sense here was pure lust. It had been a long time since he'd done this sort of thing and rarely had he been lusted after like this. Lenore started trying to push away but he continued kissing her until he realised she might pass out if he didn't give her space to breathe. He moved back and her dilated pupils gazed into his now totally black eyes as she panted for breath. He pushed one hand behind her to undo the zipper of her dress, which annoyingly stuck after the first inch. Lenore freed herself and reached round undoing both the zip and her bra fastening. She then lifted the halter-neck strap over her head and both dress and bra dropped to the floor. Hastur was impressed. She lifted one of his hands so it touched her breast and pulled him back in for another kiss.

Hastur responded aggressively pushing her back against the wall and squeezing hard on her breast. Her cry was a mix of pleasure and pain. He pushed his tongue further into her mouth this time. Her head was against the wall so she had no room to move and her mouth was filled with the bitter taste of cigarettes. He growled and squeezed her breast painfully. She reached up grabbing his arm trying to loosen his grip. Hastur smiled and moved back so he could look directly into her eyes as he took her by the wrist and twisted her arm round behind her back. He did the same with her other arm never breaking eye contact. Lenore was breathing hard and he sensed a frisson of fear mixed with desire, but she didn't struggle. His black eyes unblinking he crossed her wrists behind her back using one hand to hold them in place. He moved his free hand back to rest on her breast and waited to see what she'd do.

Lenore's breathing was fast and irregular as she blinked up at him licking her bottom lip. She carefully moved her arms, not trying to escape just testing his grip. Hastur's hand immediately tighten around her wrists causing her to breathe in sharply with the pain. He loosened his hold slightly. "Did that hurt?" he crooned in a half mocking voice. She nodded mutely. "Do you want me to let you go?" despite the almost threatening tone it was a genuine question. He still needed information from her after all. Lenore slowly shook her head. Hastur rasped "if you try to move I will have to hurt you again". Lenore immediately moved. Hastur was true to his word and she squealed with pain. He hummed loosening his grip and said softly "stay still unless you want me keep hurting you". Lenore gasped finding it hard to think clearly "p..please" she said to Hastur, "don't stop".

Hastur was hit by a wave of lust from Lenore and felt himself overwhelmed too. His hand trembled as he gently stroked her breast enjoying the soft moan Lenore gave as his thumb traced around her nipple. He suddenly pinched hard and, as she tried to jerk away, his hand tightened around her wrists making her cry out. Hastur moved in for another kiss, still keeping a painfully tight hold on her wrists. This time it was slower and less aggressive, his tongue licked at her lips moving in to circle her own tongue gently. It felt intense and Hastur realised he'd forgotten to breathe.

He could feel Lenore trembling slightly from the pain in her wrists, trying hard not to move and respond to his kiss at the same time. A sense of power flooded his brain. Her reactions were entirely in his control and her submission was entirely voluntary. His demonic instinct was to push things further, see how far she would let him go before she begged him to stop, but he was enjoying the experience too much to spoil it. He wanted her to want him, to ask him to hurt her, maybe even beg.

Hastur broke off the kiss loosening his hold on her wrists and she let out a breath he hadn't realised she'd been holding. "What shall I do with you now" he mused running his hand down Lenore's body, feeling her tremble at his touch. He hadn't expected a reply but she whispered back nearly inaudibly "whatever you want". He let out an involuntary groan and gripped tightly onto her hip digging his nails in and pulling her flush against him, so she could feel his fully erect cock against her belly. He looked into her eyes and smiled wickedly.

Pulling her back again Hastur concentrated on letting a single sharp demonic claws grow out on one finger. He hooked this under the band of her knickers slicing through the material and reached across to do the same to the other side. The fabric fell away exposing her completely. She should have felt vulnerable standing naked with a fully clothed demon holding her captive, but all Hastur sensed was lust. Nonetheless he appreciated the power dynamic and leant back to take a good look at his prisoner.

He stroked his hand down her body the single claw scratching just hard enough to trail a thin red line behind it. He dragged it across her stomach and down towards her groin pressing harder as he went. The claw drew a little blood and Lenore twitched. Hastur immediately tightened his grip on her wrists again earning a loud cry as she instinctively moved forward onto the sharp claw. "Shall I make you scream for me?" he asked leaning in closer. Her breathing was ragged and she was definitely frightened but she looked into his eyes and nodded. Hastur was delighted and grew out four claws scratching them roughly across her belly. She really did scream as blood beaded along the marks. The scream together with the mixture of pain, fear and lust sent him into overdrive. He dragged Lenore across the room using her captured wrists to steer. Reaching the desk he spun her round to face the desk and shoved her roughly so she was bent over it. He grabbed her round the waist and kicked at her ankles so her legs spread and he was holding her full weight. He leaned down to growl into her ear "say yes if you want me to carry on". Lenore spoke softly the words coming on a exhale "Yes. Please yes".

He released his grip on her wrists instructing her to hold onto the desk. He reached down to feel her pussy with his newly freed hand. He had been wondering if he needed to miracle any lube, but she was soaking already. His fingers slipped between her lips brushing her clitoris making her moan loudly and push into his hand. Hastur's sexual encounters didn't usually involve such willing partners and a dripping wet cunt was too good to miss. He used his other hand to pin Lenore down onto the desk and started to move his fingers up and down the full length of her pussy brushing her clit at the top of each pass.

Lenore whined at his touch, her breathing speeding up to match his rhythm as she tried to push herself harder onto his hand. Hastur grinned pushing two fingers into her earning a loud moan of pleasure. "Hmmm, I think you might be a bit of a slut" he said in a low predatory voice. Lenore responded eagerly in the affirmative. Hastur hooked his hand round so he could keep brushing her clit while pushing his fingers into her. He was thoroughly enjoying having her pinned beneath him so obviously aroused and rocking desperately onto his hand. "I suppose you want me to fuck you? You'll have to ask nicely" he rasped. Lenore nearly shouted back "oh yes, please fuck me Hastur, please I want it, oh please noooow" he felt her walls convulsing around his fingers as the orgasm crashed through her.

Hastur pulled his hand back undid his trousers freeing his erection and guided it to her entrance. He pushed in with one hard thrust. Lenore moaned loudly as his cock penetrated her. It wasn't quite painful but was large enough to stretch her. "Slowly" she panted. Hastur pulled out almost entirely then pushed it back in much slower. He tried to keep a slow pace pulling his full length in and out, but he soon started speeding up. With time to adjust Lenore was fine with this and started pushing back onto him at each thrust. She felt tight, hot and very slippery around him and at each stroke he wondered how long he could make this last.

Hastur suddenly remembered his claws and reached forward to rake them down her back. She screamed in pain and surprise and he slammed into her even harder. His pace was now so fast and rough that her hips were being smashed painfully against the edge of the desk. Lenore's loud cries at each painful thrust were enough to take Hastur over the edge and he came hard as she shouted his name.

Neither moved for a few seconds, Lenore breathing hard and Hastur, having stopped breathing some time ago, waiting for her to calm down. "That wasn't too much was it?" he asked belatedly.

"Oh no, it hurt like hell but it wasn't too much, not really. I'm going to bruise though". Lenore complained. Hastur chuckled at 'hurt like hell'. "Let's have a look" he said. "Just a sec, my legs are a bit shaky and I need something to mop up" she replied. Hastur passed her a grubby handkerchief from his pocket which she used to wipe away the worst of the mess.

Turning round she looked down at her rapidly bruising hips and the angry red scratches across her front. "You did another set of these on my back too didn't you? Sadistic bastard" she observed. "I'm a demon, what did you expect?" he said grinning happily.

He did wince when he saw the marks though "ooh nasty, that's gotta hurt" he sympathised. He prodded the bruised area and Lenore slapped his hand away. "Ow. Not nice" she said. Hastur grinned again and waved a hand making the marks disappear. "Oh, thank you" she said surprised. 


	3. Brandy - Good for Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deal is broken

Lenore walked over to a low table picking up a decanter and pouring out two glasses without asking. "Brandy" she said giving Hastur a glass. "Good for shock". "Did I shock you?" he asked confused. "Well, I've never been shagged by a demon before and it was a bit intense." She replied, adding "hope you enjoyed it too". Hastur nodded enthusiastically his eyes wide.

"Right, back to business" Lenore said. "She opened a draw and flicked a card towards him. "Carradine is hiding out here" she explained. Hastur was confused by the quick change of subject, but didn't want to show it. Maybe all humans behaved like this after sex nowadays he seemed to recall they liked to be held or fall asleep but he wasn't complaining. He looked at the card, it had the name and address of a church on it. "He's trying to claim sanctuary, but I don't think even the priests believe there are real demons after him. I think they're going to kick him out soon if he refuses to see a shrink again."

Hastur was not pleased. "A church?!" He exclaimed. "Not a problem I hope" said Lenore. "Consecrated ground, can't be doing with it. Hurts" he explained. "Well it can't be helped, I'm sure you'll think of something, send a human in abduct him or set fire to the building and nab him when he runs out. Anything". Hastur liked the way she was thinking. Lenore was pottering around the room, in and out of the en suite, putting on a more practical pair of jeans and a blouse. 

He suddenly had a moment of doubt. "How has he breached contract, how do you know and why are you telling me?" he threw out. "I know because he let me read it. You seem to have chucked me into the deal last minute 'suitable pretty wife, good at social stuff, low maintenance'" she quoted bitterly before continuing "I do appreciate the 'faithfully married' bit though, and he has not been faithful. As of a week ago I found out he was having an affair, which I think answers your last question too. Ever heard the phrase 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'? Well I want him to find out if it's true". "It isn't" confirmed Hastur.

"Is that enough to damn him?" She asked. Hastur dug out his copy of the contract, slightly crumpled and stained along one end. Unfolding it he checked the details. "Let's see, 'in return I give my immortal soul...and agree to'....blah blah blah.... 'not attempt to'...hmmm ...'stay within'... ah here we go 'and remain faithfully married'. Got him" he said smiling, adding "be nice to get proof, catch him at it maybe". "Oh, I've got proof" she confirmed. "Sit down".

Hastur sat abruptly. Lenore didn't move for a few seconds then came over and sat on his knee. She put her arm around him and in a low voice said "if we ever do anything like this again please don't be so quick to make the injuries disappear." her voice breaking a little. She recovered "it's...it's just a bit abrupt, need time to adjust. Does that make sense?" It didn't really, but he'd seen souls after torment sessions with their half invisible bodies clutching at where wounds should be as they shivered waiting for the next session to begin. Maybe it was a human thing. "Ok" he said. "Doesn't matter I guess" she said a little wistfully. "Not going to happen again. Anyhow: proof" she switched back to a more professional tone.

She opened a sliding panel behind the desk revealing a TV screen. Inwardly Hastur groaned, he didn't like all this modern technology. She turned it on then took a black oblong out of a desk draw and slotted it into a box under the TV. "Taped from the CCTV" she said, as if this explained things. A picture sprang up on the screen. It was a little blurry but clearly showed Lord Carradine and an unknown woman in an office. "You recognise him? That's his secretary". "Um, yeah" confirmed Hastur. The grainy figures moved closer. Lenore turned away like she didn't want to see it and came to sit by Hastur's feet.

He watched fascinated as the images moved and the couple were obviously getting more intimate. Suddenly he felt a hand sliding up his leg and saw Lenore had sat up on her knees and moved to face him. She didn't look up as her hand reached for his zipper. He went back to watching the video, hoping he knew what she was doing. He knew he'd guessed correct when he felt a warm hand reaching for his cock. This was, he searched for the right word: unusual. Then again everything about tonight had been unusual. Being sucked off by a spurned wife while he watched a video of her husband cheating on her was a new level of weird though. Not that he minded.

Lenore tried to concentrate on what she was doing shutting out thoughts of the tape playing away behind her. She knew what was happening, the blurred grainy images seared into her memory. The marriage might not have been perfect, her husband didn't seem that interested in her feelings, but they'd bumped along. Sex was perfunctory but ok, they talked mainly about his work, but he did seem to appreciate her social skills at least. Mainly she'd been sure of him, sure he wouldn't betray her. But now...

She'd listened coldly to her husband tell her about the 'one and only time it had happened', heard his apology, then saw his fear. He seemed terrified. He'd shown her the contract and she had laughed. When he'd begged for her help and fled the country she started to wonder if there was something behind it. His rapidly successful career, the series of deaths that had led up to him claiming his title, the money from wills mounting up. A pact with the devil wasn't too far fetched an idea was it? Then she'd seen the two figures rising up from the freshly dug earth in the rose beds and heard the name 'Duke Hastur', the name on the contract. Now here she was sucking his cock as he watched her husband banging his secretary. She used the crude descriptions to further poke at the already painful mental wound.

It was weird but she genuinely liked Hastur. He wasn't too impressive coming out the ground, but scrubbed up well. She liked his attitude and his eyes and his very sexy, deep gravelly voice. He'd also given her a pretty intense orgasm so she was feeling well disposed toward him. His cock was thick and hot and she could feel a pulse along the underside. She forced her mind back to the task in hand, as it were. She made sure her movements were rhythmic and her tongue busy. She closed her mouth around the thickness and concentrated on not gagging. She could tell he was close to cumming and anticipated his forward thrust. His cum was less salty than she expected and tasted faintly musty. She kept her mouth in place until his last convulsive thrust, then swallowed. Smiling to herself she reached for the brandy glass she'd put on the low table by his chair and took a sip. Hastur sat slumped back in the chair, his eyes slightly glazed but still focused on the screen in front of him.

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" She asked petulantly. Hastur focused on her gazing into her eyes for a few seconds before he said "demons don't do thank yous". She laughed and stood up going to refill their glasses. He saw her looking at the screen for the first time since it had started and heard the bitterness in her voice as she asked "seen enough?" He nodded. 

"Now you've got what you came for I guess we'd better head back downstairs and check on your friend. Only an hour before you're officially off duty." Hastur was again surprised by the rapid change in mood. She seemed to go from intimate to professional and back in seconds. He looked at a clock on the mantelpiece - just before midnight. He felt unaccountably disappointed. He'd got what he wanted and had some fun along the way, but the words 'not going to happen again' sat uncomfortably in his memory.

A loud screeching noise interrupted the thought and Hastur jumped up expecting some sort of assault. Lenore shouted: "bugger, it's the fire alarm". She took his arm and led him to the door before pushing him out, she told him "go get your colleague and get him out. I'll meet you both by the fountain out back ok". Hastur mouthed "ok" back.

Lenore started packing a few things into a small case. She saw a pile of papers on the floor where Hastur had been sitting. His copy of her husband's contract and another fat bundle of folded parchments with scribbles and crossing outs and circled bits in red. She shoved it into her bag and headed to the door. Opening it she was hit by a blast of heat and noise. The bottom floor seemed largely in flames. She shut the door and headed to the window. There was a Juliet balcony outside which she dropped her bag over then climbed over it lowering herself as far as she could before dropping and rolling onto the ground. A bit of a jolt, but not too bad. She headed off in the direction of the fountain.

The guests were mostly round the front of the building and the fountain area was deserted. No sign of the two demons. She sat on the low wall of the fountain and waited. After a few moments she realised there were voices coming from behind a nearby hedge. She wandered over and heard two voices engaged in a hissed argument. The first voice she recognised as Hastur's, the second was presumably Ligur's. His stance was that they'd got what they needed, the building would soon be burned to the ground and what he described contemptuously as Hastur's 'pet human' was likely dead. He was urging Hastur to stop mucking about, it was going to be hard enough to extract their target from a bloody church without running around after people. To his credit Hastur thought he ought to look for Lenore. He reminded Ligur they'd agreed a contract, it was binding and what's another hour matter. Ligur won the day: he had set the fire to spread rapidly and she would almost certainly be dead so stuff it. The two sunk back down into the flower beds. Lenore huffed in irritation and headed back towards the house to see if she could help. In her wake a faint frisson of static buzzed in the air - the terms of the deal had been broken. 


	4. Summoning - Nasty Mean Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From summoning and being 'sensible' up to a serious injury
> 
> This one has some decidedly 'unsafe' behaviour from Hastur - but they will sort it out

It was a few weeks later and all had gone well from the demonic standpoint. The late Lord Carradine had died of smoke inhalation when he refused to leave a burning church. Evidence was given showing the balance of his mind had been disturbed. The priest at the church confirmed he was convinced demons were trying to drag his soul to Hell and had been behaving irrationally. His black clad widow, managing to hold back her grief in a dignified manner, garnered the sympathy of the officials with her account of his sudden change in character and delusions of persecution. Case closed. Down in hell Lord Carradine was beginning to learn what Hell's fury was really like, and it was definitely worse than any human woman, however scorned.

Hastur had tried to forgot about the broken promise to his 'pet human'. She was probably killed in the fire, so he hung around Hell's new arrivals lounge for a while but didn't see her. Not that it meant much, she might not be one of theirs. He thought it unlikely her soul was pure after the night they'd had though, so assumed he'd must have missed her. It wasn't like he was really looking for her, not really. As Ligur had said, mere humans didn't understand about demonic law and the enforcement of verbal contracts, so it wasn't like she'd hold him to account. He tried to resign himself to the idea he'd never see her again. In this he was wrong.

It had started as an irritating itch at the back of his neck. He scratched feverishly earning a half squint from Ligur. "You ok?" he asked. Before Hastur could answer the itch started to burn and began spreading down his back. "It hurts!" he screeched. It felt like he was being stretched out impossibly long and scrunched up impossibly small at the same time. As he blinked back to his normal shape he realised he'd been transported up to earth. Ah, he'd been summoned.

Usually Hell doled out summonings in a rota system making sure the summonee demon was ready for the jump. Being summoned like this could only mean one thing - the person had bypassed the exchange by using his personal sigil. This was unusual. Demons didn't give out their sigils and tried very hard to destroy any human records that accidentally got them down correctly. Being summoned personally boiled down to unpaid overtime, and no-one liked that.

Hastur squinted trying to see through the bright walls of the circle enclosing him. He appreciated that at least the summoner had given him enough space to move around. Sometimes the circle was so tight a demon couldn't even fully manifest. As the glow subsided his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw Lenore. Shit.

He squirmed under her steady gaze and very nearly thought about apologising. Instead he went on the defensive. "You can't summon a Duke of Hell like this. Now I'm going to have to kill you" he said aggressively. Lenore replied calmly "I evidently can summon you. You left early. You owe me. A deals a deal". He blustered "What the unholy fuck do you think you're talking about? Verbal contracts aren't worth the paper they're not written on. Let me out of here so I can kill you". She laughed at that "sweetheart, if I really thought you meant to kill me why would I let you out?" Hastur was bought up sharply 'sweetheart'? Lenore continued "I know the process for verbal agreements, all the standard terms and conditions were included with my husband's contract along with your sigil. Our deal is enforceable. You owe me." She might have been angry, or amused, Hastur wasn't sure.

"What about Ligur? He agreed to it too, you should summon him too" He was clutching at straws now. He also realised he given away two important bits of information. Firstly he couldn't leave the circle and secondly she was right about the deal. "I only shook your hand. Unfortunately. Having two demons to play with would have been even more fun, but I'll settle for you." Lenore was certainly not angry, she seemed... Hastur searched for the term, human emotions not really being his thing. Ah yes 'happy', positively purring in fact.

"It would be much more comfortable to chat sitting down over drinks. I know you don’t want to kill me really - I’m sure you don’t want Hell finding out you broke a deal do you?" He shook his head slowly and she smudged the nearest edge of the circle, dissipating the trapped energy and letting the air from the room in. Hastur sprung forward considering his options. When he realised he didn't have any he fell back, looking confused and maybe a little hurt. “Now let’s be sensible about this” Lenore offered him a glass and gestured towards a chair. He looked around noting they were in a large comfortable library, the light from a crackling fire supplemented by a few strategically placed standing lamps. It was nice, cosy almost. Not the usual damp, dark cellars and abandoned buildings people generally used to summon demons.

Hastur complied with her instructions and sat down taking the proffered drink. Brandy again. He downed the glass and held it out for another. Might as well make the best of it. Lenore filled the glass a bit fuller this time. "I've got wine, sherry, port?" She offered "not sure this quite calls for champagne but I could get a bottle if you'd like". The reflected fire light danced in her eyes. Hastur had been staring at her for a bit too long, a strangely cowed expression in his dark eyes. He ignored her questions settling for "What exactly are you after?" Unconsciously echoing Lenore's words from their first meeting.

She sat looking back at him with an odd expression on her face. 'Inscrutable’ he decided, that's what it was. The silence was making him jittery. "Nasty mean trick summoning a demon like that. Could've been right in the middle of something important" he complained. She raised an eyebrow "well, I could have taken pot-luck and asked whoever turned up to pass the message on: 'please remind Duke Hastur he broke our deal and owes me’ hmmmm? ‘I await his pleasure' maybe?" she'd used the last expression deliberately to gauge his reaction, but her mouth twitched upwards at Hastur's evident panic. He'd clearly missed the more subtle implication. "No, no, no, let's keep this between us. I'm sure we can be 'sensible' can’t we?" He jumped on the word she'd used. He was very much out of his depth and would have been hopping around like a cat on hot coals if he hadn't decided being 'sensible' was the best option. He lit a cigarette and sucked in the smoke exhaling noisily while she watched him with that weird expression still on her face.

Lenore eventually relented, pushing an ashtray in his direction and saying "I don't mean to cause trouble for you if that's what you're worried about". Not causing trouble was a concept the demon struggled with. He blinked at her twice, evidently not understanding. "I like you" she said simply, as if that explained it. "I'd like to sit here, have a drink and talk. No strings". Hastur recognised that phrase from last time. "What's all this about string?" He asked suspiciously. Lenore leaned forwards touching his knee, looked into his eyes and said "let's get drunk". The suggestion was a welcome one as it was one that he understood. He downed his glass and held it out for more.

Hastur certainly got drunk, it was difficult to tell whether Lenore followed suit. She drank less certainly, but he didn't know her tolerance. She asked him about her husband's death and his after-death. She laughed when he told her about his reaction to a hell hound. He told her more about hell hounds digressing into a long monologue about breeding techniques and how to spot the best ones. She seemed genuinely interested. He carried on, complaining about the fact he didn't get enough time to exercise them and the unfairness of work allocations and the faults of his fellow demons. Hastur rarely got to really complain and centuries of pent up resentments poured out. Sure he'd grumble about stuff with Ligur, but Ligur got bored easily and would just wander off when he was mid-flow. He was enjoying himself.

In the middle of a particularly vitriolic rant about the incompetence of a minor underling he had one of those rare moments of drunken clarity. Maybe she actually did like him, the sense he was getting off her was part entertained amusement and part lust, certainly nothing suspicious and the lust bit interested him. The drink made him reckless and he suddenly interrupted himself to ask "do you want me to bend you over that desk and fuck you right now?" Lenore spluttered on her drink and said "that was a bit unexpected". He looked about as abashed as a demon can look and mumbled "forget it". She replied in a lower voice "I didn't say no".

Time seemed to speed up. He wasn't sure exactly how he had closed the space between them, pulling her to her feet and crashing into her, splitting her lip in a viciously fierce kiss. The taste of blood was seriously arousing and the next few seconds blurred again. He could feel her grabbing his coat trying not to fall and then he was pulling her backwards across the room and slamming her down over the desk. He was sober enough to realise she was struggling and forced himself to stop. He gently stroked her back shushing her complaints. He leaned over, pressing into her, with his mouth by her ear. "You can change your mind. I'll stop" he offered nervously, he really didn’t want to stop now he’d finally got the upper-hand back, but he felt compelled to offer. "Just slow down a bit, I'm not going anywhere". He grinned and replied "oh no, you're not going anywhere", drawing out the last word in his best threatening tone, enjoying the way her breath hitched as he said it.

Holding her down by the neck Hastur continued stroking her back. After a few passes her breathing had calmed and she started to whimper gently at each stroke. He pulled his hand back and smacked her hard on the arse. Lenore squealed and twisted in his grip her arm flailing round. Hastur released his hold on her neck and grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back and pinning her to the desk. He caught the wave of lust and her whispered "oh yes" so resumed the gentle strokes until she relaxed, then slapped again. The response this time was more like a moan of pleasure.

He hummed to himself and pulled up her skirt tucking the material under her pinned wrist and reached back to tug on her knickers pulling them halfway down her legs. He could feel her shivering under his hand as he gently rubbed her naked buttocks. Pulling his hand back he felt her tense for a slap that didn't come. He just resumed his light touch until she un-tensed then suddenly landed a hard smack laughing when she cried out. He continued an erratic pattern of soft caresses and hard slaps until she was squirming underneath him, faint bruises starting to show under the redness of her backside. The cumulative effect of the blows was making her shout in real pain at each new smack, but she was held in place by his firm pressure on her wrist. Holding her helpless like this, hearing her cries at each new blow, was making him very hard, and he wanted to do something about it.

Wondering about the need for lube he eased his hand between her legs. She moaned loudly as he touched her. She was practically dripping, definitely no need for lube. He rubbed his hand back and forward a few times and she pushed down onto him desperate for more contact. He then withdrew it, much to her chagrin, and started tugging at her knickers again, giving up pretty quickly and just slitting the thin material with a single manifested claw. Roughly kicking her ankles apart he undid his trousers pulling out his impressive erection. He lined up behind her and, learning from last time, penetrated slowly eliciting a loud satisfied hiss from Lenore. "Oh fuck" he thought, it felt so good and he hadn't even started moving yet. He went very slowly pulling out almost fully before pushing very slowly back in.

After a several incredibly slow thrusts Lenore clearly wanted more and tried to push back onto him. He didn’t want her setting the pace so twisted her arm further up her back making her cry out again with the pain. She said breathlessly "yes, please don't be gentle". Hastur's brain short-circuited and he slammed into her causing her to shout as he smashed her against the edge of the desk. He growled aggressively following up with several more hard thrusts. She was yelling each time she hit the desk but not quite loud enough for him. Wanting more he wrenched her arm up, twisting really hard, and she screamed in earnest. A couple more thrusts and he came with a loud incoherent shout.

Pulling out he noticed she'd gone completely still apart from her fast panting breaths. He released her arm but she still didn't move. Feeling her slipping down he held her round the waist and taking her other arm guided her into a chair. She looked pale and was taking quick, shallow breaths. Sitting back, she moved her arm round holding it slightly awkwardly like she was frightened to leave it unsupported. "I think you may have fractured my wrist". Her voice was quite steady but he could tell the effort she was making to keep it so. He reached out to take her arm but she flinched away from him. She took a couple of deeper breaths before looking up at him. Steeling herself she carefully moved her injured arm towards him keeping it supported with her other hand.

Hastur dropped to his knees in front of her, genuinely worried about what he'd done and what the consequences might be for him if he’d pissed her off. Gingerly taking her arm he confirmed a spiral fracture of the ulna bone. "Can you fix it?" she said in a flat voice "now" she added with a more urgent note. Hastur nodded and waved vaguely at her wrist. "Done" he confirmed. She was still obviously shaken but managed to adopt a stern tone to say "we're going to have to establish some ground rules if this is to be a regular thing". Hastur blinked at her uncomprehending - he'd just broken her arm and she was talking about making it a 'regular thing'.


	5. Safe Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Establishing a safe word - about time... Also **maggot warning** not for the squeamish...

Hastur got up quickly grabbing their glasses and sloshing them half full with brandy from the decanter. "Brandy. Good for shock" he said handing her a glass. It was her turn to smile "did I shock you?" She asked, completing the mirror of their conversation from last time. She took a sip and he noticed how her hand shook. "Yes" he answered truthfully. She looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds before asking "have you ever heard of a 'safe-word'?"

The concept of a 'safe-word' was new to Hastur. To be honest the concept of a 'safe' anything was a bit alien to him. Lenore explained and he was intrigued. "So, you'll let me do anything to you, anything at all, unless you say one particular word?" Lenore explained again about humans being quite delicate compared to demons and her own preference not to have bones broken, suffer really serious injuries or end up unconscious. "In fact, you need to ensure I never pass out because of something you did. Can you manage that?" He nodded, eyes wide, still not quite believing what he was hearing. "Also, you need to take it a bit slower, give me chance to stop you if I need to, and heal stuff afterwards too, fix any damage, you know?" Hastur continued nodding, a hungry look in his black eyes. To him it felt too good to be true, she was deliberately inviting him to hurt her and it seemed she would willingly submit to whatever torments or ordeals his evil mind could think of, and he could think of a lot. Suddenly suspicious he asked “anything else?", "No cheating, you can't gag me or prevent me from speaking, and you stop immediately if I say it" she answered. Well if they were the only caveats he was happy to oblige "so what's the word?" he asked. She smiled wickedly, "seeing as it's why you're here I think it should be 'deal'".

She continued smiling saying "maybe you should draw up a contract". Although she was laughing he took the suggestion seriously. "It's a bit unorthodox, but might be possible" he was doubtful. "You're offering to sell your soul are you?" A hopeful note in his voice. "In return for you only hurting me when I want you to? Ha ha, I think not". He knew it was a long shot, but thousands of years of demonic training took over "what else would you like? I can give you the world, power over all men, anything, just name it". He leered at her but she just shook her head. "No thanks, I'd rather not take on any more responsibilities".

She then did that disconcerting thing where she changed demeanour completely, adopting a diffident, casual voice to say "by the way you dropped this last time" she offered him a bundle of papers. "I did the corrections for you". Hastur recognised the bundle as his and snatched it from her. Unwrapping the papers he sorted through them. "I had to write some out from scratch. Too many crossings out" she offered. He looked wide eyed at the neatly made notes in the margins linked by asterisks to the red crossed out sections and the newly typed fresh sheets rewriting originals too heavily scarred with multiple crossings out and angry red scrawl. She'd used an italic font closely mirroring his sloping copperplate, deceptively neat looking but somehow really difficult to read at the same time. "Take a look through while I have a quick shower" she suggested. 

By the time she came out of the shower, wrapped in a white bathrobe, he'd finished reading. "That's a whole day's work at least. It looks perfect. How did you do it"? Looking slightly smug she answered "I'm used to that sort of thing, I used to work at a bank before marrying his late Lordship. It wasn't too hard once I'd figured out the basics". Hastur was stunned, Hell's paperwork was well known to be, well, hellish to complete. Dagon's approach to Quality Assessment was always harsh and her red scribbles notoriously hard to fathom, but it looked like Lenore had nailed it. "Think of it as a 'thank you' for getting rid of my cheating bastard husband" she smiled.

Hastur considered the explanation and thought a ‘thank you’ really wasn’t necessary as he had only been doing his job. She was making an excuse he decided, she just wanted to do things for him - he liked that. In his view everyone should want to do things for him, he was important and he was pleased she’d realised that without him having to tell her. He dropped the bundle, crossed the room to stand close to her, and kissed her very gently. Her lip was still swollen from earlier and she flinched even at the softest brush of his lips. "I forgot, do you want me to ‘fix the damage'?" He offered undoing her robe and carefully placing his hand on one bruised hip. She hummed quietly in the affirmative. The bruising disappeared and her swollen lip returned to it's usual size. "Nice" she offered in thanks and delicately kissed him back.

He glanced at a clock looking back to her awkwardly. "I need to get back to work fairly soon, they'll miss me". She looked disappointed. He remembered she hadn't cum, no, instead he'd fractured her wrist. Not very considerate he thought. Mind you a demon wasn't meant to be considerate. He was torn. Then a truly evil thought crept into his head. "Want me to do something really demonic?" He asked. His smile was unsettling, like a crocodile eyeing it's next meal. "Will it hurt?" She asked nervously. "No but it might make you scream. Can you follow instructions?" He asked.

Taking her agreement for granted he used a commanding tone "take off your robe and lie down on your back". She complied without hesitation, lying naked on the rug in front of the fire place. He stood over her smiling wickedly. "Lie flat and spread your legs. Wider" the demands were given in a clear, stern voice, difficult to disobey "arms up, above your head, out of the way". He stood over her looking down for a few seconds making her feel very exposed. He was looking forward to this, he wanted to find out whether she would do as he told her, even though her natural reaction would be to scream and try to get away. So far she seemed happy to follow instructions, which was a good start, now to test it. Kneeling between her legs he gave her the final directions "keep still, don't forget to breathe, scream if you want". Apprehensive, but also aroused by her vulnerable position and his evident enjoyment of it, Lenore lay still. What happened next was the stuff nightmares are made of. Hastur leaned over her, then disintegrated into a writhing mass of thousands of maggots, it stayed poised above her for a second before the entire weight fell on her.

She didn't scream. She was probably just too shocked to react as she certainly felt like screaming. Obeying his instructions with difficulty she lay still, legs open, as she felt things crawling all over her. The sensation was like nothing she could compare it to, totally overwhelming and, if she let herself think about it, totally gross. He’d told her not to move and she felt like she had to follow the instruction, but it was difficult. Deciding it was for the best she closed her eyes and tried not to think about it.

Covered entirely by the Hastur-maggots she felt totally helpless and, as they squirmed between her legs, totally vulnerable. Another part of her brain noted it was also quite pleasurable. She took refuge in the part of her mind that was enjoying the feeling, trying to focus on that and ignore the vile reality of what was happening. She couldn't keep track of where the sensations were coming from and she decided her only option was to lie still and submit to whatever was being done to her. As the things (she wouldn't think of them as maggots) wriggled around and onto her clit it became easier to focus on the pleasure and she started feeling very aroused. Sharp bolts of desire shot down towards her groin and she felt her hips lifting in an involuntary reaction to the sensation. She tried to follow Hastur's injunction to stay still but, as the feelings got more intense, she was finding it hard. A pulsing suction enveloped her clit and she felt her whole consciousness concentrating into the area before wave after wave of physical ecstasy washed over her. A hoarse cry escaped her lips as her orgasm peaked.

She lay stunned for what seemed like minutes, but was actually only a couple of seconds. When she opened her eyes she could see disgusting writhing bodies coalescing into a human looking shape just above her. Without thinking she lifted herself and kissed the bit approximately where the mouth would be. It was a bizarre feeling, the little maggots squirming under her lips becoming more solid as they formed into lips. She stuck her tongue out into the still shifting mass in time to feel it retreat then another tongue pushed back into hers. The kiss lasted a few seconds before she lay back down looking up at Hastur's shocked face. Breathing may have been unnecessary for demons but he was panting hard. She grinned widely "I didn't scream" she said triumphantly. 

Hastur spluttered as he sat back on his knees. "No one's ever done that before" was all he could manage. Lenore felt a movement between her gum and cheek and, hooking a finger into her mouth, pulled out a single maggot. She offered it to Hastur, it's small wriggling body wet on her palm. He leant in to suck it directly from her hand. Sitting back again he started laughing and didn’t seem able to stop. She looked up at the demon, a pair of beady eyes observed her from his head - a frog she thought - he had slime on his head and neck, his eyes were totally black and the wickedly sharp claws had reappeared, possibly as a defensive impulse. He looked like a wild thing, dangerous and beautiful, but also vulnerable as the hysteria shook him. Lenore sat up and, moving to his side, put an arm round him making shushing noises and stroking his back. Once he'd calmed down a little she said "Think I might like maggots".

As he regained control of himself he felt a mixture of elation that she’d obeyed him and actually cum with the maggots, and disappointment that she seemed to have taken it in her stride and didn’t appear too distressed. He grumbled "You're not normal. Ligur said you was weird when I told him what you'd done last time". Lenore raised an eyebrow "not a very gentlemanly thing to do, giving away a lady's secrets like that". Hastur was confused "I'm not 'gentle' and I'm not a 'man'" he said. "Apology accepted" was the tart response, followed by "well, I guess you want to get going now then do you?" 

Hastur was yet again taken by surprise by the change in tone. It was true that he was the one who’d said he needed to leave, but he felt it was unfair of her to remind him of it after what they’d just done. Equally he couldn’t think of anything to complain about in her behaviour, and he certainly didn’t want her trying to make him stay, that would spoil things. He shuffled from one foot to the other while she looked on.

Finally she broke the silence "maybe if you have more papers that need correcting you could leave them. I'll take a look see what I can do". He waved a hand and a box appeared, piled to overflowing with jumbled papers. "Yeah, I got plenty" he said unnecessary. "Fine, come back in a few days and we'll see how far I've got". He nodded and, twisting round on one foot, sunk down through the library floor. 


	6. Admin - Demonic Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This really is all about the work - and a suggestion from Lenore

Hastur was preoccupied. He'd been preoccupied for several days and it was showing in his work. Ligur had to ask him three times about a temptation he was meant to have completed the day before. When he finally got through to him, Hastur had given a blank stare and a flat denial that it was anything to do with him. "It's on your blessed worksheet ya dumb bastard" he pointed out mildly.

"Some other bugger'll have to do it. I'm busy" Hastur growled. This was a lie. He clearly had nothing to do and had been doing it diligently for the last 4 hours. Telling lies is a perfectly normal demonic trait, but this one was too much for Ligur. "You lying git. What the heavens is wrong with you? You bin like this for days" He yelled at Hastur who squirmed in his chair avoiding eye contact. "You know that woman from the party" he said finally. Ligur rolled his eyes and his chameleon shifted its feet on his head. "The one that summoned you. The one you get all arsey if I mention. The one you won't talk about. Yes, I know her".

"Well it's her" Hastur said and promptly clammed up again. "Why is it her?" Ligur probed. "She liked the maggots" Hastur said turning red under the grime. "I like the maggots" Ligur said reasonably. "Not like this" was the reply. 

Eventually, after a few punches, Hastur told him the whole story. If demons allowed themselves to look shocked then that's how Ligur would have looked. As it was he just said "You did what??" in an incredulous voice. "She liked them" Hastur said plaintively. "No, I mean the paperwork. You gave her a whole box of our backlog? And she's going to do it. A whole box?" Ligur's eyes were open wide and a glowing orange colour. "Well yeah. She asked" said his colleague.

"What did I tell you, she's weird" Ligur rolled his eyes again and sat back down. "You'd better check up on her. Make sure she hasn't eaten it or something". "Do you think she's likely to do that?" Hastur asked panicked. "Nah, the first lot she did passed Dagon's QA. She must be using occult magic or something. Wouldn't go to all that trouble just to eat a box of mouldy old paper, even if it is hallucinogenic mould" Ligur reasoned. "She said she liked me" Hastur said distractedly. "Definitely summat wrong with her then. No one likes you, you're fundamentally unlikeable". Ligur grinned widely. 

Normally this sort of a comment would cause a fight, but Hastur just replied dreamily "she asked me not to be gentle, and I broke her wrist and she wants to do it again". Ligur was irritated: "I don't believe she wants you to break her wrist". Hastur had to concede the point. "Well not that bit, but all the other stuff. It's like she wants me to do stuff, y'know, instead of wanting me *not* to do stuff like everyone else" he tried to explain then gave up, sniffing "It's different that's all". He thought for a few seconds before adding "and she does the paperwork something beautiful".

Ligur latched onto this last point, the rest being a bit beyond him. "Best see how she's getting on then" he suggested. Hastur nodded happily but didn't make a move. "Well go on then or do I have to kick you?" Ligur threatened. At this Hastur ran off, presumably to find transportation up topside.

Ligur sat for a while contemplating their conversation. He, of all demons, knew Hastur could be a bit strange at times, but taking up with a human was new. Ligur didn’t see why a human wanting, or not wanting, a demon to do something mattered - demons did what they wanted and humans couldn’t stop them. For some reason he seemed to be fascinated by the fact she ‘wanted’ him to do evil things to her, seemed to think it was more fun than just doing them anyway. Ligur couldn’t understand why that made it different, but to Hastur it clearly did. He shrugged mentally, Hastur was strange, the human was weird, he was sure it would work out, there couldn’t be anything dodgy about it could there? He sighed, deciding he’d better find out a bit more. Sometimes Hastur needed someone to look out for him, and that was his job. He stood up and headed off to Extant Records to check Lady Carradine's file. What he found there surprised him. He had to tell Hastur.

Lenore was sat in the library. She'd pushed two tables together and had piles of papers across the whole surface. She was taking notes of the content of a particularly crumpled sheet with a few extended bits stuck on with a brown goo that she didn't want to speculate about. There were a couple of completed, neat looking files, in new red cardboard folders at her feet, but the rest was a mess.

Hastur's and Ligur's backlog was immense and not in any particular order. Sheets from the 1990s were jammed in with stuff from the 1890s. In one case two generations of the same family had both sold their souls for a very similar deal. Both with the same name often the only way to separate them was the 40 year time difference. Without dates on half the reports, she had to use ancillary details like clothing style or oblique mentions of current events. A positive way to describe it would be 'a challenge', a more accurate way would be 'a bloody nightmare'. Lenore had been bored playing the dutiful wife to Lord Carradine for the last six years and actually genuinely liked 'a challenge' so this was right up her street.

The contents of the papers were fascinating too. Fascinating in the same way as a true life documentary about a sexually deviant, serial killer was fascinating, but fascinating nonetheless. Hastur's writing style was in the stream of consciousness school, peppered with some very graphic, not to say pornographic, descriptive passages and a vivid eye for detail. It was the sort of storytelling that created crystal clear images in your head. Images you would later wake up screaming over.

Hastur's weaknesses became apparent when it came to completing the summaries and the submission forms, the prescriptive little question boxes just didn't suit his style. He also seemed to have difficulty separating relevant from irrelevant details. Sometimes the summary would go into forensic detail (literally) about a death without mentioning who'd died, or give an obscenely meticulous account of an act of violence only for it then to become apparent the sin being prosecuted was 'greed' so the incident was entirely irrelevant. He seemed to simply get stuck on one aspect of a case and launch himself into a kind of obsessive abyss totally missing the bigger picture.

Ligur, on the other hand, clearly hated writing. His short reports were scrawled with such violence the pen tore the paper in places. He had a staccato way of throwing out names, dates, places etc with no real narrative to link them. Between them everything was there. Ligur had the facts, Hastur had the descriptives. The issue was linking them together, pulling out the salient details and arranging them into the right order. Once you'd done that it was just a matter of condescending it into a brief summary and filling out a cover sheet; using only prescribed wording and not going over the lines. These then needed signing by the overseeing demon before the whole file was submitted for the first of a series of checks. Simple.

After about 20 hours solid work the words had started to blur before her eyes and she fell asleep at the table. On waking she sensibly took a break, ate something, then promptly threw up on recalling a particularly gruesome description of a gangrenous leg. ‘Damn Hastur’ she thought before remembering he'd already been damned. At the start of the fourth day she felt like she was getting the hang of things. Day three had seen two files she'd been working on simultaneously come together. She'd done the finishing touches, tidied them up and placed them in their new red covers. There were a couple more where it looked like she only needed a few more details to finish them. There was also a pile of stuff that didn't seem to link in anywhere. A papyrus scroll containing unfathomable symbols was put to one side as were a series of neatly cut out pornographic lithographs with no notes or context.

She poured out a stiff drink before continuing with a harrowing account of a massacre of military prisoners. Hastur's neat sloping writing gave chapter and verse on the dispatch method, the cries the victims made, what they were wearing and who got their boots, but was light on names or location detail. The bits stuck on with what she hoped was brown glue had information about the attempt to destroy the bodies and the impossibility of digging a mass grave in frozen ground. From these cumulative details she was guessing it was during Napoleon's failed Russian invasion and was about to start sifting through the piles of Ligur's notes covering the period when the air seemed to crackle and Hastur appeared in a dramatic flash. Possibly it was coincidental he was right by the drinks cabinet.

Lenore thought something about him looked odd; there was definitely something different about him. Suddenly she realised that it was his clothes. His coat and suit still looked like he'd been wearing them non-stop for twenty years while sleeping in a ditch, but the tie was new. It was tied in what appeared to be a perfect Windsor knot and was pure black with a design of matt and silk swirls that hurt your brain to try and follow. It was pristine and stain-free and its disconcerting pattern somehow matched his fathomless pitch black eyes perfectly. "Nice tie" she said and he immediately looked uncomfortable fiddling with the knot.

"Borrowed it. It's got occult insulating symbols" he vouchsafed. He was obviously pleased she'd noticed it though. Hastur cleared his throat. It didn't seem to work as his voice was still gruff. "You haven't eaten any of the papers have you? They might be poisonous" he said anxiously. Lenore was taken off guard "why in god's name would I eat them?" She asked. Hastur winced and said "don't use the g-word" before turning to look nonchalantly at the drinks cabinet. "Why did you think I might eat your papers?" She asked again ignoring his now significant glances towards the decanters. "Doesn't matter, just something Ligur said" he muttered.

"Ligur is weird" she said. "Just what he says about you" Hastur threw back. "You've not been giving away intimate details to your damn work buddy again have you?" He replied "if I tell you can I get a drink?". Lenore responded angrily "Pour your own damn drink".

Hastur took a step back knocking into the cabinet. He'd never seen Lenore cross before and was unsettled by it. He still managed to turn and pour himself a large drink before lighting the inevitable cigarette and saying "he said I should check on you, that you might be using occult magic to do the files". Lenore laughed loudly and for long enough to start to worry him. She took a few breaths before saying "If I had occult magic why would I use it on your admin when I could turn princes into frogs or something amusing like that?".

Hastur pricked up his ears at the mention of frogs. "Do you like frogs?" He asked in a hopeful sounding voice. She was, at first, confused by question, but then remembered the head-frog from last time and thought it was cute he seemed concerned about her likes and dislikes. “I like them better than princes in any event" she said reassuringly, then continued in a more irritated voice "so I take it you've given Ligur full details about everything have you?" She seemed cross again, although Hastur didn't know why. "Course I did. Always tell him stuff. We been working together for thousands of years" he replied baffled. "Oh well, I don't suppose I'm anything special. Demons probably get up to this sort of thing all the time". Her voice was resigned and maybe a little disappointed.

"I've never been kissed while still half maggots before, it was good" he confided "and you're polite, saying 'please' and stuff, people aren't normally polite to me unless I'm threatening them. They never want me to do things to them either, well not the things that you do, it’s nice, and you're really good at blow jobs; best for centuries" the last comment sounded wistful and hopeful at the same time. Saying nice things wasn’t in his nature and the mental effort seemed to tire him so he sat down abruptly. "It's different" he concluded. 

"Alright beautiful, I'll take flattery in lieu of an apology. I've stopped being cross" Lenore's smile was full and genuine as she looked at Hastur with a pleased expression. Feeling like he'd successfully found his way out of an emotional mire he didn't understand, he sighed with relief. He then replayed what she'd said in his head. "What do you mean 'beautiful'? I'm not beautiful. I'm ugly, been like that for millennia, it's 'my look'" he said repeating a phrase he'd once heard Crowley use.

Lenore stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. She reached out to take his chin in one hand and turned his head from side to side, inspecting him like a judge at a dog show. "No" she said eventually "definitely beautiful. Sorry sweetheart". "You're not allowed to say that. Can't be beautiful, I’m a demon and I'm really evil" he said petulantly.

"Oh I know you're evil. I read the files. I'd say you're a violent, sadistic, psychopath. Cruel, dangerous and totally evil". She cooed the compliments down at him in a soft purring tone.  
Hastur preened at her words, relishing the properly demonic descriptors, but then she carried on "doesn't stop me thinking you're beautiful though, and very sexy. Yes Hastur, I'm afraid you are incredibly hot and I want to kiss you" she suited the action to the word kissing him carefully on the forehead, just on the edge of a lightly oozing green patch of skin. He was less sure about this second part, but decided to take Ligur's view. "You're weird" he said. She didn't seem to mind being called weird. Releasing his chin from her soft hold she went back to sit at the table taking a long sip from her drink. "I didn't eat the files beautiful. Come have a look if you don't believe me".

He went over and the talk became purely technical as they worked through piles of reports. Lenore asked questions and Hastur clarified as best he could and she talked him through her progress. She ordered pizza and they ate and drank together finishing off another two files. After several hours Lenore seemed to be getting sleepy. Hastur wondered what he should do. He felt like sex was part of the 'not-quite-deal' they were operating under but didn't feel like doing it after having put in a solid nights work. He started uncertainty "um, you know the other thing, not filing, like with the safe word and hurting and maggots, well, I can, um you know, I don't want to break a deal, um again, but it's getting late" he stuttered to a stop.

Lenore looked at him thoughtfully. "Sweetheart, don't ever think you're under an obligation. This is an informal thing. Like I said 'no strings'. I'm not doing your paperwork just to get laid you know!"

"Why *are* you doing my paperwork?" He asked, relieved but also confused. "As I said: I like you. Also it’s interesting and I'm bored and I need to do something or I'll go mad stuck here on my own". She looked slightly mad to Hastur already, but that was probably tiredness and over exposure to the truly unpleasant content of some of the files. The explanation didn’t really explain anything either, no-one would do his files out of boredom surely? He decided he had been right first time, she obviously felt she should go out of her way to do things for him, this was as it should be and made him happy. He wasn't sure how to end the conversation, there was a human etiquette to these things that he'd never bothered about before, but now dearly wished he'd paid attention to. He awkwardly put his arm round her and almost pulled her off her chair in what was very nearly the weirdest hug in human history.

Lenore, to her credit, reacted well. She hugged back briefly then broke it off to pass him the completed files. "Take these for preliminary checks and I'll keep working on the rest. Come back soon". She smiled as Hastur gathered up the files and disappeared through the floor.


	7. Violation, Purity and HR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more about the plot - there is a plot honest - and more about the relationship i.e. smut

Nearly a week went by and Lenore was getting on well with the files. Another three completed. She'd also picked up a file that looked complete already. The neat looking copperplate had red ticks next to various sections and an 'accepted' stamp imprinted on top. There was however, a new sheet headed up 'Appeal'. Interesting: apparently not all souls in Hell were ultimately doomed. There was a 'sponsoring angel' box with a swirl of slightly glowing white in it that somehow managed to look smug. The hearing date was early next year. She put it to one side and went upstairs for a nap. She'd look through the file later.

She was woken by being shaken roughly and looked up to see Hastur above her. The soft half-light outlined his figure making it almost black. His presence felt menacing and she sensed a concentrated energy coming off him. He didn't speak, instead pulling back the covers with a flourish. He waved a hand over her and she was suddenly naked. Climbing onto the bed he pulled her legs apart roughly and settled himself between them. Leaning down he kissed her hard. His tongue went too far into her mouth and she nearly gagged, tasting cigarettes and maybe the slight tang of blood. He took her arms lifting them above her head and, bringing her wrists together, leant his weight on them. She felt his free hand pulling one of her legs up and over his shoulder. Being naked and helpless underneath him was sending shivers of desire through her body.

He didn't just want to physically dominate her though. He needed to do more, he wanted her to be desperate, abject beneath him. His plaything, his pet. To feel her complete willing and wanton submission. He could sense her desire, her lust for him, and determined to exploit it. He said in a commanding voice. "Tell me you want me". She complied, real need underlying her reply. It wasn't enough. Gripping her thigh painfully he barked out: "beg for me".

Lenore wasn't sure what to say but started with 'please' and ended up whining with lust and desire, offering him anything if he'd just fuck her.

Hastur let go of her thigh and fumbled for a second getting his cock out then guiding it so the tip was just resting at the entrance to her now very wet pussy. "Again" he growled, resisting his own impulse to thrust himself into her, wanting instead to prolong the rush of power he was feeling.

She complied, words of desperate pleading tumbled out of her, rawly exposing her want and need for him. She felt powerless. His cock still rested just at her entrance and she had never been so desperate for anything before as she was for him to thrust forward, to penetrate her.

He growled "Tell me you're a slut. Tell me how wet you are. Now". The last word was shouted and, as she started fulfilling his request, he couldn't resist any longer, roughly thrusting himself fully inside. The feeling was intense, like every nerve was hypersensitive, she was so wet, but still tight, her slippery heat encased him and he groaned at the sensation.

From the start the pace he set was hard and fast. His one hand resting his whole weight uncomfortably on her trapped wrists, his other grabbing her thigh, painfully hard, pulling her onto him with each thrust.

He leant down but instead of kissing her he bit her neck painfully. As she cried out he moved down slightly and bit hard again. The pain and discomfort were in sharp contrast to the waves of arousal coursing through her body and she felt herself floating helplessly between the two sensations. She felt overwhelmed: the rough feel of his hand on her thigh, his weight pressing down on her, his smell, his warmth, the feel of him biting her, fucking her, was too much. She felt taken over, completely helpless, completely dominated.

At the third bite Lenore started protesting telling him 'no' and ‘you’re hurting’, but he didn't let up. The sharp pain bought her back down from the floating high. It started burning, shooting out in all directions as he increased pressure. It was almost too much for her. She started to scream and Hastur came, making animalistic grunts as he finished his final thrusts.

He released her wrists and pulled up from the bite. Resting on his knees he looked at her closely. He waited a few moments as she panted and shivered under him. Finally he asked "that was ok wasn't it? You didn't say that word" a slight quaver in his voice betraying his concern. Tears had formed in her eyes and had started running down the sides of her face, but she agreed in a shaky voice "no I didn't say it, it was ok" a weak smile creeping onto her face. Hastur was triumphant: she was his to do with as he wished.

He noted the blood oozing from the bite wound and grinned. "You're bleeding" he said happily. "Not surprising really" she replied, a little calmer. Hastur got off the bed leaving Lenore to compose herself. He prowled around the room finally turning a chair to face the bed and sitting down. "Not that I'm complaining, but what bought that on?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Ligur said you had a 'pure' soul, well pure enough for heaven to claim it anyway. I wanted to sully it. It's a demon thing. Corrupting the innocent, violating and degrading people. That kinda thing" he had the grace to look embarrassed at the melodramatic language.

"I hardly think I count as innocent! As for pure, that seems dubious too. I set you on my husband, did all sorts of lustful things with you and I've been doing your paperwork - that's gotta be against the rules" she protested. Adding in a shy voice "I liked being 'violated and degraded' by you though".

Hastur gave a grin looking pleased "I liked doing it. Especially now I know you're pure, feels properly evil". He continued on a more concerned note "its got to be something pretty big for 'up there' to put in a pre-emptive claim though. They’re not meant to do them very often. They said all minor transgressions were irrelevant. What did you do?"

"When did they put this claim in?" She asked slowly. "It was after the stuff at the party if that's what you're thinking. Heaven doesn't run a backlog, swatty bastards" he replied. She looked thoughtful and said slowly "It might be because of the fire. When you and Ligur buggered off leaving me in the lurch I went back to see if I could help. Ended up going back into the house, searched around and found a few people who'd been too panicked to get out. Led them to safety through the back. Y'know, kinda saved their lives. Got a few minor injuries along the way, couple of days in hospital, nothing serious".

Hastur was staring at her. "Yeah, that'll do it. Multiple lives saved, ignoring personal danger, selfless actions. What possessed you?" He shouted angrily. "Dunno really, just felt like the right thing to do" she replied embarrassed. Hastur rolled his eyes "doing the 'right thing'. Fuck's sake. No wonder they're after you up there. You're meant to be mine" he almost shouted the last bit. "But you can appeal, right? Don't fancy sitting on a cloud singing hymns for all eternity" she asked confused.

He laughed. "Heaven doesn't work like that. They collect souls, keep track of the numbers, but they don't let them wander round heaven. Probably keep them in some sort of containment unit. Like in Ghostbusters" he explained. "You've seen Ghostbusters?" She asked incredulous. On the defensive he said: "S'got a possession in it and hell hounds, end of the world stuff. It's funny. I was at the cinema on business anyway, lots of greed about in the 1980s". Her mind boggled at the thought of demons in the cinema. "People don't generally appeal escaping Hell's clutches either. Being in torment for all eternity isn't something they generally want. We sometimes do 'claw-backs' but there has to be new evidence. Maybe you could do some really bad stuff, like killing lots of people."

"I don't think so. There's no one I want to kill and I'm not going on a random murder spree just to improve your quarterly stats". Hastur laughed at that. "I don't fancy being tormented for all eternity either. Maybe we could arrange something to get round it - stop me getting on heaven's books, but keep me away from Hell's torments. Like I don't have to die".

"No immortality clauses. That's the first thing they tell you on Deals and Pacts training" he snapped.

"Well, maybe you could give me a work contract, renewable on an ongoing basis. Extensions to be agreed at specified review points".

The suggestion baffled him. "What do you mean, a work contract?" He asked. 

"Well, I've been doing your admin stuff, compiling files, writing summaries etc already, so why not employ me as your 'Personal Assistant'? Do it in such a way that, until the contract ends, I won't die so my soul can't be claimed by anyone. Set a review date, not an end date. Doesn't make me immortal, just extends things indefinitely until all your paperwork is completed". The idea sounded bizarre to her, but Hastur was nodding eagerly.

"My paperwork will never be done, got thousands of years in backlogs and appeals and potential claw-backs. It'll keep you off the opposition's books and be helpful for us. Might just be possible. I'd have to discuss with the boss. Well, not 'The Boss' but escalate to Beelzebub at least. I'll stick in all that stuff about 'safe words' and injury repairs as well if you like." The offer clearly appealed to him. "Not buying a soul but putting it to work for our side. Heaven will hate it!".

"If you're going to be my boss I'll need some safeguards. I need sleep, limits to working hours, days off and stuff." Judging by his expression workers' rights was anathema to Hastur. "It's standard stuff for humans. I'll dig out my last contract with the bank and the HR Terms and Conditions".

"HR?" He asked. "Human Resources. They control what you can and can't do - as a boss or as an employee - make sure you get paid, look after grievances, stuff like that. Don't you have anything like that?" she asked. He found this hilarious. "Bosses do what they like in Hell, you gotta fight to keep position or get anything and there's no pay."

"Ever thought of setting up a union?" She asked and then had to explain the concept, twice.

Apparently this was another hilarious idea. He was laughing so much it hurt her ears and she started to worry. Eventually he managed to splutter "Demons working together and standing up for each other?! I think not. Weird humans".

"So no union, no rights and no pay?" She didn't sound impressed. "That will have to change. I don't need money, thanks to my husband's own demonic dealing, but I want terms modelled on my last contract - with breaks, holidays and specified duties, that sort of stuff".

Hastur was dubious, but nodded in cautious agreement. She offered a concession "we can put something in that if we both agree then select standard terms can be waived. So if I don't mind doing overtime, or not going on holiday for example then that's ok".

He thought about it "If I'm your boss you have to do what I say, right? So you've got to agree to do anything I want. I'll *own* you." He looked at her hungrily.

"Not how it's going to work. I want my admin duties clearly defined and no coercion or blackmail - my agreement to waive terms has to be freely and voluntarily given. Anything other than work and the ‘safe word’ applies or the deal is off: got it?" She asked sternly.

Hastur looked a little deflated. "So I can't demand a blow job?"

"You can demand it, I just haven't got to comply" she paused, then added "probably will though".

"Come here then" he barked at her. He loved the way she was up and across the room in seconds, still naked and eager to obey. "On your knees" he indicated a spot just in front of him. As she knelt before him he put a hand on her shoulder and gave the bite marks a vicious tweak. She cried out in surprise and pain as he smiled confidently. "You know what to do my little demon slut, and I expect you to swallow".

Lenore was happy to obey. Undoing his trousers she took out his already semi-hard cock and started with few strokes with her hand. As he got firmer she ran her tongue around the tip lapping the underside. She continued her delicate licking until Hastur, obviously frustrated, grabbed her by the shoulder again causing a sharp bolt of pain and demanded: "suck it". The shouted order sent thrills down her and without complaint she again obeyed, moving her mouth as far down his thick shaft as she could without gagging. She held on to the base with one hand to prevent him from thrusting his whole length into her and moved up and down licking as she went. After a few minutes of this steady pace he instructed her again, this time in a lustful growl "Faster. More". She sped up keeping the rhythm and pushing the tip against the roof of her mouth. She could feel he was close to cumming and was ready for his sudden thrust forwards and the hot cum shooting out into her mouth. She made sure he was looking at her before swallowing ostentatiously and opening her mouth to show it was empty.

Hastur sat with his black eyes glazed, only half open. "You're good at this" he said finally. He had blood on his fingers from squeezing the bites he'd inflicted earlier and he delicately licked it off one finger at a time eyeing her in a proprietary way. "You do taste nice" he said smiling. "Shall I heal those up now?".

"Yes please" she replied and she felt the throbbing hotness disappear from her shoulder and neck immediately. "Thank you Hastur".

"You keep saying please and thank you I'm going to have to violate you all over again" his words were half threatening.

"Thank you Hastur" she said with a mock innocent look. He pulled her up onto his lap, twisting her round so she faced away from him keeping a firm hold on her waist. He stroked her naked body down from her neck to just above her groin. He paused for a second resting the warm palm of his hand on her stomach, then repeated his stroking action up her body. He cupped her breast and leant in to kiss her neck where he'd bitten her before. This time he was gentle, his lips just grazed where the bites had been. Her breathing was slow and deep, purring audibly on each exhale.

He stroked his hand downwards again, this time without pausing, eliciting a moan as he pushed his fingers between her lips brushing her clit. She was very wet and he wondered if this was always the case or if it was something to do with him. He hoped the latter was true. He liked the idea all this yielding wetness was just for his benefit. He pushed an exploratory finger inside quickly followed by a second. As he moved his fingers in and out he circled her clit with his thumb and resumed kissing her neck. She moaned appreciatively and he murmured into her neck between kisses "my pretty, pretty pet. You like this don't you? So wet for me, it's all for me isn't it my pretty pet? You're all mine aren't you? My pretty, slutty little pet. You want this don't you?" He circled her clit harder and faster as his fingers pushed and curled inside her. His soft purring endearments and gentle kisses on top of the motion was too much for her and she hissed out his name as her orgasm washed over her.

Hastur looked extremely pleased with himself. Wiping his hand on his knee he said "Ligur's right, you are my pet human and I'm going to enjoy playing with you". The mention of Ligur dissipated her mood a little. "You always mention Ligur, what is it with you guys?"

"Maybe I should bring him along next time" he mused ignoring the question. "Didn't you say you'd like to play with two demons? Ligur isn't as gentle as me, but I'd make sure he doesn't hurt you too much." He waited for an answer.

"What? You want to share me now?" she cried defensively. Truth be told she wasn't sure what to make of the suggestion but her first thought was that two demons at once sounded really hot. She was still in a post-orgasmic haze though and didn't want to commit to anything at this point.

"I'd make sure he behaved. I'd like to watch you being fucked by him" he paused, then said "I can tell you'd like that too; little demon slut".

"Get out of my head demon, reading my thoughts like that isn't fair" she exclaimed. "Not denying it are you?" He observed astutely.

"Well no, but you've given me enough nightmares on your own for now. Maybe at some point. Not saying 'no', just not so soon".

"You have nightmares about me?" He asked pleased: "good nightmares?"

"As good as they can be I guess. It's strangely reassuring to wake up screaming and know the worst has already happened. I'm deep in the clutches of an evil, sadistic demon who regularly does terrible, horrible things to people and it's really hot. I have to check the bed for maggots sometimes too." Lenore looked ashamed at the last revelation.

Hastur was delighted. "I can do the maggots again" he offered an evil glint in his eye.

Lenore shuddered "think I need time to get over the trauma of the first time before you traumatise me all over again" she said. "Not saying 'no' just another one for a future date" she admitted sheepishly.

She suddenly laughed, getting up and going over to the wardrobe to collect some clothes. "I got another three files for you sweetheart, wanna go grab a drink and take a look". Obviously they'd gone back to business mode now he thought, getting up and heading back down to the library.


	8. Everything is Unfair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next 2 chapters kind of link together - we’re on to background stuff regarding the nature of the whole heaven/hell thing and where Hastur fits into it….

The files did indeed look ready to go. He confirmed the last batch had passed preliminary checking and were now in the queue for final approval and sign off. They could still be sent back for amendments, but it was looking good. He had finished off the brandy and started on something slightly syrupy, the colour of old blood - apparently this was port and he quite liked it. Not got the same kick as the brandy but still potent.

She asked about the file headed up “Appeal” and he grunted, a sour expression on his face. As far as she understood it the guy had sworn an oath to the pope to go on a crusade, which granted him absolution from his earthly sins. It was meant to allow him to go on the crusade, kill in God's name with impunity, and still go to heaven. In this case the guy had done a bit more than kill the enemy on the battlefield though.

Hastur explained “guy’s a sure thing - murder is a clear breach of the commandments - it’s just the opposition chancing their arm. They’re bringing up the whole ‘papal supremacy’ thing again, trying to claim the bastard was granted ‘penitent absolution’ for all sins. Load of bollocks, even if you accept the premise, which I don’t, the guy killed one of his own, nothing to do with the crusade. This was all sorted out centuries ago, they’re just trying to waste our time. If we don’t get our response in it’ll go back to the main courts and they’ll try and snatch him out from under our noses” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily “I still think we should do claw-backs on the Inquisition bastards they got off. Just because we were a few decades late with some of the paperwork. The witness accounts alone shoulda proved they knew they weren’t doing Her work. Just sadists with silly hats. We put a stop to that one eventually - this is just more of the same crap”.

“Sounds open and shut to me - what do you need?” Lenore asked. Hastur talked her through the appeals process, it sounded similar to judicial reviews and appeals generally. The “Appeal” form was actually just a request for ‘permission to appeal’, so they didn’t need to go back into the merits of the case. All that was being considered was whether there were any procedural anomalies, material errors, or if the decision was so obviously unreasonable or irrational that it shouldn’t stand. The sponsoring angel’s case was that the papal oath had not been considered at the first hearing. Hastur considered this wasn't a valid argument (‘bullshit’ was his exact word) because, even if the ‘absolution’ argument had any weight, it only applied to killing in the ‘righteous cause of holy war’, not smiting some random peasant who happened to be in the way. She found the whole thing fascinating; and Hastur’s outraged passion endearing. She’d never tell him, but his sense of justice and morality seemed a lot more virtuous than the angels’ approach. They seemed to be trying to exploit a loophole to get a murderer off - not very righteous.

As Hastur poured himself another drink he launched into a tirade at the unfairness of the whole system. Hell were up against it from the start - the preliminary hearing relied solely on witness testimony, the soul itself, one demon and one angel. There was limited time to prepare and souls were usually given the benefit of the doubt whenever possible. If Hell lost, and they wanted to push to a full hearing, they had to lodge all the supporting documents/testimony and names of all witnesses within a very short time-frame. Heaven also made pre-emptive claims - these bypassed even the preliminary hearing and Hell could lose the soul without even realising it had gone through the books. These were meant to be exceptions, but Hastur believed it was a sneaky trick on the opposition’s part to stop a fair trial and reckoned loads of evil bastards had got away with it because of pre-emptive claims, he just lacked any evidence to support it.

His next issue was with the Judges of the Dead. There was just no consistency. Circumstances that were almost identical got different outcomes. Even if they found a precedent chances were the Judges would say ‘each case on its own merits’ and just ignore them. The Judges themselves seemed to be a strange mix of ‘gods’, belonging mostly to the Ancient Egyptian and Graeco-Roman traditions, and so called ‘elevated souls’ - human souls that neither Heaven nor Hell had adequate claim to. The latter were generally non-believers, or those of an incorrect faith, who nonetheless had managed to fit within the definition of “pure”. Hell didn’t want purity and Heaven didn’t want heathens. Apparently there seemed to be more and more of these being appointed nowadays and Hastur thought they were just shoving souls through willy nilly. He said they’d ended up with Judges who hadn’t got a clue what they were doing - didn’t even understand the basics of the commandments - and it was only going to get worse as a rising population meant more and more work.

He complained about the forms, how they were only allowed to question witnesses in a certain ways, the length of the whole process and the ‘bleeding daft’ rituals they had to go through. He didn’t like the etiquette of the courts, the way the work was organised, the incompetence of his staff, the lack of adequate training. He went on and on bemoaning the hierarchy that had corrupted the utopian ideal of them all getting to rule in Hell, rather than serve in Heaven: no one would have opted to serve in Hell he reasoned. He had nothing against ‘The Boss’ it was the middle management he hated - they just didn’t understand the reality below the ground. Quotas were always being pushed and Quality Assessments getting harsher - you couldn’t have a greater quantity of work as well as a higher quality - it was one or the other he reasoned. None of it was fair, and it was all someone else’s fault.

Lenore sat entranced by this tirade, the bureaucracy that sat behind what sounded, to begin with, like a fairly simple set of principles was labyrinthine. Every detail seemed prescribed: forms, file formats, questioning of witnesses, rituals for opening and shutting the courts, appointing Judges, appeals, claw-backs - it went on and on. There was not a single aspect of the entire process that Hastur was happy with. He hated the other demons, he hated the courts, he hated the Judges and more than anything he hated the angels. He felt his testimony was never given enough weight and his underlings never put the evidence together properly. Having read a lot of Hastur’s reports she wasn’t surprised they struggled to put together a coherent case and the mind boggled at what Hastur would be like in the witness box.

He finished up with a rant about the lack of resources going to ‘Armageddon Planning’ blaming the apathetic misanthropy of certain members of the Dark Council. He thought if they got their way the whole Armageddon plan might end up being shelved. He expanded on the theme. “We’re meant to be getting back at Her by dragging Her bloody humans down to our level, but only as a preliminary to the final Apocalypse. It’s not the main aim, only something to piss Her off while we plan the big one. Yet that’s all we’re doing. So distracted by collecting souls and bogged down in bloody paperwork we’ve taken our eyes off the big prize.” He complained loudly, then suddenly realising what he said followed up with “not that I mean to criticise the Dark Council, I’m sure they know what they’re doing, probably just beyond a lowly Duke like me” he said looking round nervously. 

Lenore looked at him thoughtfully, then said in a serious voice: “so I’m just a distraction to you; one of ‘Her bloody humans’?”

Hastur seemed to suddenly realise who he was talking to “forgot you wasn’t a demon” he said sulkily. Then he went on the defensive “You said you liked me, well this is me - I’m a demon and we’re nasty, cruel things and you bloody humans got all the breaks and it’s not fair - why’s She gonna forgive you lot but not us eh?” genuine bitterness in his voice.

“I do like you sweetheart, and I know you are cruel and nasty and I still like you. Doesn’t mean I have to like being insulted though does it?” she said reasonably.

Hastur considered this for a while, puffing on his cigarette, downing his drink and pouring another one to gain time. “I think I might ‘like’ you too, you know” he said slowly as if this had only just occurred to him. He recovered quickly from this introspection “doesn’t make it fair what She did. We was cast down into the fiery lakes of Hell when all we wanted was to be left alone to rule ourselves without all that bloody bowing and grovelling. S’not fair” he finished up sulkily. “and just cuz I like you doesn’t stop me being cruel and nasty to you neither - just so you know”.

She grinned at him: “so you like me do you?” She pulled out the positive from the rant ignoring the wider points. "What makes you think you wouldn’t like other humans?” She asked, playing ‘devils advocate’, which was a dangerous thing to do with a demon.

“You read the files - seen what the bastards do to each other. They are favoured above all Her creations and don’t even appreciate it. If I was human” he paused, considering this prospect, then stopped, thoughtful.

“That’s it isn’t it?” said Lenore. “You didn’t like Heaven when you were there, why would you like it any more as a human sat in a containment unit? Doesn’t sound much like being ‘favoured’ to me. Maybe you should tell people, see if they want to follow loads of rules just to be forgiven for something they never did in the first place, all for the ‘reward’ of being sat in a containment unit.” She was actually getting angry now.

Hastur stared at her “never thought about it like that before” he admitted. “Still not gonna to stop being a demon though, it’s just tough on you humans that’s all - s’pose it’s not your fault being stuck in the middle n’ all, but it’s not fair”. He finished up on his recurring complaint.

“Life ain’t fair sweetheart” she told him. “Probably best not argue any more about it though” she finished sensibly.

Hastur wholeheartedly agreed, arguing was all well and good but this was getting a bit uncomfortable for him. He knew his job and would do it to the best of his ability, he didn’t want to think about the rights and wrongs of things. So long as he was doing the wrong thing that was fine - well, so long as it was the *right* wrong thing, he tried again, so long as he wasn't doing the right thing. He was getting confused, so stopped this line of thinking. “I’m a demon, so deal with it” he said with finality.

“You’re not looking very demonic at the moment” said Lenore petulantly as she looked at the sulky, flushed face and defensive, arms-crossed, posture he’d adopted.

Hastur bristled and changed his stance to one of sullen menace, growing out vicious looking claws, eyes going fully black, green blotches appearing on his face and a frog-like creature taking over his head. He leered at her unpleasantly and growled angrily “better?”

“Oh you’re so beautiful, so very beautiful” said Lenore dreamily, “and sexy” she added a note of longing creeping into her voice. Hastur was so stunned he forgot to be intimidating “you’re weird” he said.


	9. Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following directly on from Ch8 - what Hastur looks like when he’s being demonic

Lenore moved very close to him, staring at him with a weird look in her eye. She put a hand onto his coat and asked “what do you look like under all those clothes? Will you take your coat off?” He was a bit embarrassed “you wouldn’t like it” his eyes darted looking to find some excuse not to take his coat off. He mumbled “I’m too demon-y for humans, it’d scare you”.

Lenore laughed “I like the demonic look” she said gently stroking the uneven green parts of his face noting they felt slightly greasy. She carefully kissed his cheek next to what seemed to be the frog’s foot murmuring “I liked the maggots didn’t I?” 

Hastur relented taking his coat off and dropping it in a heap on the floor “there” he said sulkily. He had a waistcoat and a grubby white shirt on underneath. Lenore started undoing buttons much to his discomfort. She pulled at the waistcoat and Hastur reluctantly let her take it off him. Now just in his shirt he felt very exposed. “Come on you’ve seen me completely naked, crawled all over me in fact, all I want to do is take your top off” Lenore said persuasively. He stood miserably and allowed her to undo his shirt. 

She pulled his shirt open and ran a hand down his chest. The whole of one side of his body was heavily scarred with serious burns extending onto his shoulder and, she assumed, continuing down his arm. The swirls of strangely textured skin were mostly pale, but with some darker reddish-purple bits. The other side was unscarred, but was broken up by green patches of rough, amphibian looking skin that glistened slightly in the light. Her fingers trailed upwards over the scarred area feeling the smoothness of the irregular skin. “fiery lake” he mumbled, adding unnecessarily “it hurt”. She hummed pushing his shirt over his shoulders. At first he demurred but then helped take it off completely. The burns did indeed extend down his arm stopping just above his wrist. Her hand traced a path to the end of the scarred skin then slowly began trailing back up his arm. She lightly brushed the edge of one of the green areas with her other hand. Hastur was clearly uncomfortable standing stiffly, not moving and refusing to look at her.

Lenore felt mesmerised by the sight before her. She longed to touch, to stroke, to taste. He looked so different, the patterns of the scars, the irregular skin, the glistening green. He was totally 'other', utterly unlike anything she'd ever seen before. She took his chin very gently and turned his face towards hers looking deeply into his eyes and murmuring “beautiful” before kissing him softly. He kissed back carefully at first then, as his confidence returned, he deepened the kiss. He slid his arm round her pulling her in closer. She moaned quietly enjoying the feel of his skin against hers.

Her arms were round him and he felt her hands exploring his back, touching two long raised areas either side of his spine and stopping. “Wings” he said gruffly, embarrassed by all this attention on his body. She hummed again saying “I forgot you’d have wings” in a wondering tone of voice. She stroked up and down the lines. Hastur felt like he ought to say something, anything to distract from the intense feeling of her skin against his. He’d never put himself on display like this before and he hadn’t felt someone touch his chest and back since one of his fellow demons had tried, and failed, to heal the burns after the fall. He felt vulnerable, which he didn’t like, and was desperate for a way out of the situation, anything to regain control. “Can show you my wings if you want” he suggested. He was immediately aghast at what he’d said, but didn’t feel he could withdraw the offer.

He took a step back, mercifully escaping the excessive intimacy of her touch. Checking there was enough room he shook himself slightly, feeling his wings manifest behind him. They were large and mostly black with patches of a muddy brown. The wing on the side with the burns was subtly misshapen, twisted and slightly smaller than the other, with a few gaps between feathers. He looked at the ground unhappily closing his eyes, not wanting to see her face. He expected she’d be unimpressed, or worse, disgusted - his scarred and damaged body with the weird amphibian patches oozing a clear oil from their rough surface was not a pleasant sight. Although he wasn’t the worst damaged by the fall he was very conscious of the way the burning had changed his body. Then he'd developed oozing green bits on the areas of undamaged skin and he felt he was totally ruined. She didn’t say anything for a long time and he screwed himself up to look at her, fearing the worse. Then he heard her breathing out in a long sigh “you’re magnificent” she whispered, wonder in her voice.

The beauty of his skin for her was all in the contrasts. The textures went from the oddly smoothed looking twisted scars to rough glistening areas through a few undamaged bits in between. The colours ranged from white to deep purple and red, with the addition of dark green and pale human hues. He was so beautiful just looking at him hurt her, such was the intensity of her reaction. When she saw the wings they had an almost physical effect on her. Maybe it was something hardwired into humans, all those centuries idolising angels, but she had to resist the urge to kneel before him. 

Hastur’s eyes opened and he looked into hers expecting to see deceit, instead all he saw was wide eyed adulation. He forced himself to pick through her emotions still probing for something betraying disgust or horror. All he got was intense adoration and a kind of star-struck awe, almost veneration. He was embarrassed again and looked back down to the floor. “so beautiful, so perfect” her breathy voice seemed to be talking more to herself than him. He wasn’t sure if she realised she was speaking out loud. He felt anything he said at this point would somehow break the spell and she’d realise what she was actually seeing, so he stayed quiet not moving.

Lenore moved in close and he flinched as she tried to touch him, suddenly angry at her for not hating him. “Stop playing with me. I’m a demon, we’re not beautiful, we’re not perfect, we’re flawed and damaged and horrible. There was always something wrong with us on the inside, that’s why we got kicked out of heaven, all that changed with the fall was the wrongness got visible on the outside too. I’m not beautiful. I'm spoiled and disgusting and ugly” the last words were more of a wail, a last plea for her to agree with him. The faint glow of hell-fire outlined a halo around his head and shoulders. He was shaking and she felt a dangerous, unstable energy radiating from him. It felt like he might explode at any moment.

She stood back giving him space “Shhh, it’s ok sweetheart, it’s ok, that was too much. You’re a perfect demon though. The files prove you’re evil, really evil, and you do horrible, ugly, nasty things to people and you’re really good at it. You gave me nightmares remember? Just 'cause I think you’re beautiful, well I’m weird”. She laughed uncertainly hoping to dissipate the strange awkward mood. Hastur finally looked at her “I give you nightmares and I’m evil” he affirmed. Lenore looked into his eyes adding “and I still like you”. He almost smiled as he confirmed back to her “you are weird”.

Feeling like she’d pulled back from an abyss she offered Hastur his shirt saying “sorry, didn’t mean to….make you angry” she’d nearly said 'upset', but felt it best to stick to proper demonic emotions. He took the shirt back, but didn’t immediately put it on “I’m not really angry at you, it’s just not fair, none of it’s fair, and I want the war to start so we can make them hurt, show them, show Her, it’s so bloody unfair”. There was a wobble in his voice, a barely suppressed anger showing outwardly in the still undissipated glow from his hell-fire halo. Clearly he was still a bit unstable. “Do you want another drink” she offered trying to guide him back to firmer ground. “I wanna get drunk” Hastur said emphatically, happy to have finally found something he was sure about.

He seemed to forget that he was shirtless, scars on display and still with his wings out and simply sat on the edge of a low chair, proceeding to drink the whole contents of the port decanter. She went to fetch more and, when she returned with a bottle of port and one of brandy, she found him still sitting unmoving on the chair. She approached cautiously and offered to decant the port, but he took the bottle and swigged directly from it. He then appeared to recollect himself and got a glass from the table and poured her one, making eye contact as he handed it to her. “What you said was nice. About me being really evil and doing horrible stuff” he said shyly and he smiled at her before looking away.

As the alcohol did it’s work he relaxed visibly. He’d been drinking in silence for about half an hour when he suddenly said “you really do like all this demon stuff don’t you”. She wasn’t sure what he was referring to: himself or the work; or even if it was a question or just a statement. She replied cautiously “in what way?” He laughed “weird little human, I’m glad you’re mine. I’ve always wanted more pets. More than just the hell hounds you know? Some demons keep witches covens or start devil worshipping sects. Whole nunneries some of ‘em have. Can you imagine how funny that would be?” He laughed hiccuping slightly. “Come here” he instructed and, when she got in range he tipped her into his lap making her spill port all over her dress.

The night ended with Hastur, very very drunk, trying to remember the words to a song he’d heard on earth at some time or other. It was about “three German officers” and was very rude.


	10. Sign in Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur did take the contract idea seriously and now he wants to play with his pet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for blood and cutting - there is also a mention of maggots, in fact maggots come up off and on throughout, but I’ll warn you if there are any particularly gross bits…
> 
> This is a long chapter compared to the previous ones- probably could have broken it up, but it seemed to fit

Ligur had told Hastur about the whole 'pure soul' thing and had expected that to be an end to his interest in this human. Hell didn't like purity and demons should be disgusted by it. He hadn't been. In fact he'd seemed fascinated by it. Then he had turned up in the office, drunk as a skunk, saying something about a contract. Ligur thought that had sounded promising, but then he'd explained. It was ridiculous. Hell didn't 'employ' humans, well not like this. He'd listened open mouthed as Hastur had talked about limits to working hours, defined duties and time off. He had been about to explode at him when he saw the look in his eyes. They were burning with intensity; a fanatical glow that only owed a little of its heat to hell-fire. He realised Hastur had found himself a new obsession.

Ligur had been around Hastur for long enough to know there was no point arguing with him now. He comforted himself by thinking about some of Hastur's previous obsessions, now all dropped. The Roman empire for example, that incident with the musical emperor and the fire, feeding people to lions and stuff. All good fun until a jealous demon tried to tie him to that business with Her son. Nothing to do with Hastur, he'd only taken a hand in the area later on, but it had been a close one. Ligur had sorted it out, and Hastur had lost interest. There had been others, he’d had a thing about crusades - the human order to the crusaders to “kill them all and let God sort them out” had come straight from Hastur. One of the main reasons he’d got the courts to stop the crusaders all getting onto the opposition's books that. A good (bad?) solid bit of work, soon as they'd started going to Hell he'd stopped being interested. Ligur knew that once he’d got on to something there was no way to divert him, you just had to ride it out.

He had to admit the paperwork was done well and the help was useful. She seemed willing to please him, even agreeing he could use torments on her, that would make Hastur happy. He wondered how she’d react when she realised breaking her wrist would only be the start of things; realised quite how much Hastur liked hurting people. He sighed, if she tried to put the breaks on things then Hastur would get bored. As soon as she stopped being interesting to him that would no doubt be an end to it; an end to her too probably. Ligur thought all he had to do was wait and things would go back to normal soon enough. In the meantime he was happy for the help with the backlog and resolved not to intervene. He did his best to keep Hastur occupied, but didn't demur when he announced he was going up to see his pet human again.

Ligur's determination to keep him busy meant the next time Hastur came to see Lenore was not until a couple of weeks later. She’d wanted to see him before then but didn’t want to summon him in case he needed some space; and he’d hardly been keen on it the first time. She reminded herself she'd told him it was “no strings” too and she knew what that meant even if he didn’t. She was wishing there were at least a few stings by now, but didn’t try to contact him and instead focussed on the files. When he finally turned up he was clutching a thickish bundle of parchment filled with his familiar copperplate. He was clearly very pleased with himself. “I found lots of ‘HR’ in Hell and got them to help with a contract” he said proudly “it’s based on EU labour law, with a working time directive, and a grievances procedure” pronouncing each alien term slowly. “Take a look” he proffered the document.

She took it, started unfolding and scanning through the first lines. “You need to sign on page three and eleven - I’ll show you - no need to read it all”. He tried to snatch the bundle back from her. “You’re amazing” she said “trying to get me to sign a contract with a demon without reading it - nice”. It sounded like she really did admire his approach. “Well, you can read it if you have to, but it’s all there” he said huffily. “I’d rather get a kiss before you start though”. She grinned and went over to comply.

As she got close he grabbed her hair pulling her head back painfully and bent down to kiss her. He kissed her gently at first, then more deeply and it took her a second or so to notice something was a bit weird. His face seemed to be moving in odd ways, starting to push down onto hers and his lips were starting to shift under hers. She opened her eyes. Maggots. She tried to pull away but felt his grip tighten in her hair. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of screaming so determinedly continued with the kiss exactly as if nothing was happening. She kept her mouth open and even stuck her tongue out into the writhing mass moving it this way and that. The maggots seemed to flood into her mouth but her nose was thankfully left clear so she could still breath. It was absolutely disgusting and she had to concentrate hard to stop herself from gagging. Thankfully after just a few seconds she felt the mass shifting back into a more solid shape and the kiss resumed a more natural form.

He pulled out of the kiss but didn’t release his hold on her hair, still pulling painfully. He was looking down at her with an oddly doting gleam in his eyes. “Good pet” he said happily, “I bet you’re getting wet for me too aren’t you?” Something about the confidence in his voice made his suggestion start to come true. His other hand grabbed her arse, groping roughly, and he kissed her again. This time it was a deep and passionate kiss that left her breathless. 

Hastur was enjoying himself, he’d barely got into the room and she’d virtually melted into him, hadn’t even screamed when he’d tried the maggots on her. She was so compliant, so willing, it was fun playing with her. He felt he could demand anything and she’d do it. It was fascinating. He walked backwards guiding her across the room and pulled her down onto him as he sat in a low armless chair. She sat a little precariously on his knees, her legs either side of his. He pulled her down so she was sitting flush against him.

She could feel his hard cock pressing onto her and felt a bolt of lust shoot down to her groin. He did that disconcerting thing where he waved a hand and she was instantly naked. Sat flush against his fully clothed body, feeling his hardness through his clothes. She squirmed slightly and revelled in the rough feel of the fabric against her skin.

He raked his fingers down her back, no claws this time, but just hard enough to hurt and she moaned into him. He instructed her in a commanding tone “get my cock out”. It didn't even occur to her to disobey. She leant back reaching down to undo his trousers and pull out his erection. He took hold of her waist and pulled her upwards and towards him so she was poised above him. “Fuck yourself on me” he growled pulling her slightly to indicate she should sit. She reached down to feel herself, slightly surprised that she was, in fact, pretty wet already, as Hastur had predicted. She guided him into her, sitting in one slow, smooth movement. “Look at me pet, wanna see you” he told her. She put her hands on his shoulders to balance herself and gazed into his eyes, then started moving herself up and down. His cock was thick and hot and filled her to the point of stretching, it felt wonderful and shocks of pleasure ran up and down her body.

He kept his hands on her waist but let her set the pace as she pushed herself up and down on him. “You like fucking yourself on me don’t you?” he asked looking into her eyes with a deliberately dispassionate expression. She nodded enthusiastically keeping her movements regular and her eyes on him. He felt amazing and she was having difficulty concentrating on keeping her balance and tempo as his cock caused ripples of sensation to run up and down her body. She was moaning with each thrust she made onto him feeling him throbbing hotly inside her.

He kept his eyes on her, watching her face, she really was enjoying this, and, to be fair, so was he. Time to make it a bit more difficult he thought and demanded “faster”. She did her best to comply, speeding up the pace until she was feeling light-headed from the intense feelings her exertions were causing. She kept a fast rhythm pushing herself down hard onto him. He could tell she was tiring, it was an awkward position with her legs spread wide either side of the chair taking her full weight. He tried to delay his orgasm, watching fascinated as she did her best to ignore the aching, tiredness in her legs and forced herself to maintain the fast pace he’d demanded. He wasn’t going to last long though, shame, but he’d proved his point, she’d do whatever he said.

Just as she was feeling she couldn’t continue for much longer she felt him pushing back hard into her. He grabbed her waist tightly pulling her down and groaned loudly throwing his head back as he came. She sat still for several seconds and he looked back into her eyes “pretty pet” he murmured. “Now, get us a drink and you can read that contract” he said adopting her approach of switching between intimate and professional without warning.

“You cheeky bastard” she replied and got up to start looking for her clothes. Hastur waved towards the heap on the ground and she grumbled and walked over feeling wetness leaking out of her. “You made a mess” she chided and he laughed. She managed to find tissues and cleaned up before pulling her clothes on and walking towards the decanters “what do you want?” she asked. He was glad to see that, despite her complaints, she still doing his bidding.

He wanted brandy, a big glass, and she poured him one. She picked up the contract and pointed over to where she’d been working previously. “five done now - I’m stuck on number six, looks like some of Ligur’s notes are missing”. He went over to take a look and she settled herself in a chair, legs thrown over one arm, and started reading the contract.

After reading it through she had to admit he'd done a good job. Not sneaking anything in she objected to immediately, although she questioned whether supplying and pouring drinks was normal proscribed duty for a P.A. He'd also written a section on blow jobs. His concern seemed to be that technically she could say shoving his cock into her mouth would count as gagging her. He wanted the option to do it so had allowed for a pre-consent process. It was well worded and his description of what he wanted was very graphic. He had clearly put a lot of thought into it and it was obvious how much he liked it. It reminded her of the last time and Hastur’s compliment afterwards, she’d enjoyed it too. Lenore looked over at him speculatively. He was sitting at the table, head supported by his elbows looking deeply engrossed in a file. She stared at him for a few seconds thinking about it.

Hastur didn't look up from his reading but said "pet, I can hear you thinking". He continued reading, then said "come on over then". She walked over to him. He still didn't look up. "Get under the table and get on with it, I can tell you want to". For some reason his total lack of attention really turned her on and she got down and crawled under the table. He sat back legs far enough apart for her to get between them. She looked up and he was still reading the file. As she started undoing his trousers she noticed he was nearly fully hard, so clearly not as disinterested as he wanted her to think.

Hastur had stopped breathing. He hadn't expected this, but was certainly not going to pass up the chance. She was fucking him on demand, doing his admin, pouring him drinks and now sucking his cock without him even having to tell her to. He had a firm belief that he should be getting this level of attention by right, but even he was starting to think this was a bit unusual. At the moment though he was too busy trying to pretend he wasn't thoroughly enjoying what she was doing to think about it.

She moved in closer licking round the tip then gently curling her tongue around the underside lapping upwards. She heard a faint moan and he pushed his hips forward slightly, but then noisily flicked through the pages of the file and hummed in feigned concentration to try and hide his reaction. She continued her ministrations licking around the head and lapping at the length. As she closed her mouth over him and pushed down she heard him groan quietly. She'd certainly got his attention, even if he was pretending she didn't. She did a few passes up and down before pulling up and going back to licking alone, moving on to drop a few soft sucking kisses on his shaft, but deliberately not taking him back into her mouth. She hoped he was getting frustrated and would admit he wanted her to suck it. He didn't.

She was determined to get a reaction, so pushed her mouth down enveloping him again stopping when she'd taken in as much of him as she could then gently pushing her tongue upwards pressing him into the roof of her mouth. She then drew back slowly making sure she kept her mouth tight around him, grazing him slightly against her teeth and twitching her tongue as she went. His involuntary cry, followed by a hissed "yes", was all she wanted. She picked up the pace going up and down, quickly and firmly. She pushed down letting her mouth open just enough to allow him through while still keeping him in close contact with her mouth and tongue. He'd given up all pretence of reading the file now his hands gripping hard onto the arms of the chair as he tried not to thrust. She kept a steady pace, going fast enough to hopefully push him over the edge but not wanting to rush it. She felt him getting firmer, and then tasted his cum flooding her mouth. She stopped her movements and swallowed as he finished twitching.

"Oh fuck pet. That was good" he said as she crawled out from under the table. She grinned at him. "No problem beautiful". She stopped, looking concerned, no doubt wishing she hadn't used the word 'beautiful' after last time he thought. Cute she was concerned about him, but it was time to put her in her place. Smiling at her he said "don't care if you think I'm beautiful pet, you snog maggots and suck demon's cocks even when they don't ask you to. You're weird" and that, he concluded, was the answer. She was weird so any unusual behaviour was explained. He wouldn't worry about it any more.

Lenore got up and went back to her seat picking the contract up and resuming reading. After another read through, this time deliberately searching for loopholes or ambiguous language, she had to admit the contract was good. Exactly what they'd discussed and what she'd had in mind. She picked up a pen from the table and turned to the first of the two signature pages. Hastur stopped her. "In blood if you would, it's traditional".

"Your blood?" she asked, a glint in her eye. He looked shocked spluttering "No, yours of course". She pouted at him. "I don't even know what your blood tastes like" with a wistful note. Hastur was disconcerted. "I'm the demon here. I'm the one who hurts you, you're the one who bleeds. That's how it is". She sighed in mock resignation. "If that's the case you'd better make me bleed then, so I can sign".

Hastur closed the distance between them very quickly. He had fished a butterfly knife out of one pocket and flicked his hand so the blade was out and ready in less than a second. A hungry, dangerous look crept into his eyes as he pulled her arm towards him resting the blade against it. He growled "I can do this quickly and it won't be too painful, or we can play a little. Do you want to play pet?" He paused waiting for her reply. He really wanted to ‘play’, hold her and hurt her, but he wanted her to voluntarily give up control, willingly become his pet.

She felt desire and lust overwhelming her common sense. She knew this could be really dangerous but she wanted to feel his power over her. "I'm your pet, I want to play" she said as darts of arousal shot down inside her. 

He made a low rumbling noise in his throat, she’d done exactly what he wanted. He could feel the rush starting already; he was going to hurt her and it was going to be good. He pulled her up by the arm twisting and trapping it under his own. "Try and stay still pet. This is going to hurt" he warned.

She watched as he drew the blade slowly along her forearm, feeling a sharp sting as it sliced into the skin. The cut wasn't deep, but he hadn't finished. The second slice was made along the same line, the blade dragging lightly but it's sharp edge cut easily, deepening the first cut as it went. The stinging got worse making it feel like the blade was red hot. She was breathing heavily and desperately trying to keep still to avoid serious damage.

He could feel her fear, almost taste it, yet she hadn’t tried to free herself yet. He wondered how much he could hurt her before she couldn’t help but try to escape, not that this would be possible, he had a firm hold on her. It was going to be fun finding out what she would endure for him, just so long as she didn’t try to stop him too soon; he really needed this.

On the third pass he cut parallel to the first, wiggling the blade slightly as he dug it deeper. The pain was intense and her vision sharpened and narrowed as grey static flooded the peripheries. She instinctively tried to pull her arm away but his grip was like a vice, she couldn't move. She realised she was making a high pitched noise on each exhale that was not quite a scream. Her breathing was fast and shallow. She was really frightened, feeling a wave of panic as his grip tightened on her arm.

He moved the knife up for another parallel pass. She was struggling desperately by this time, but he had her stuck fast. He just hoped she wouldn’t say the word yet, or would maybe be too panicked to remember it. The smell of her blood, the ease with which he held her helpless, her fear and the lingering tang of lust in the air made him feel almost drunk. He wanted the feeling to last. He couldn’t help but push it a further though, twisting the knife, making her sob. She started to plead with him to stop, he could tell she was suffering as her words became slightly incoherent, tumbling out randomly. He listened carefully, aware that he might have to try and stop soon. Thinking it might help he tried a few words of encouragement. “It’s ok pet, you can hold on can’t you? Be good for me”. As he twisted the blade again he noted her arm was bleeding freely, blood dripping and pooling on the floor. Maybe he’d gone a little too far already.

The knife was drawn back and he took a black feathered quill from his pocket pushing the tip delicately into the blood. She felt him putting the quill into her hand and he held the contract up for signature. Her hand was shaking as the endorphins coursed through her, making her feel detached from the world around her and slightly elated. She put as close an approximation of her signature as she could manage in the indicated box. He turned to the second signature box, guiding her hand to dip the pen into the blood a second time. She signed again, her vision clouding and a light-headed floating feeling starting to overtake her.

Hastur shook her hard. "Don't faint on me pet. Cuts all healed. Deep breaths". She took his advice sucking air into her lungs in quick deep breaths and started to feel more focused and less unsteady. "Well done pet, you did really well, all done now". His face was suddenly close against hers and she felt him kissing her. She was still feeling floaty but reacted to the kiss, welcoming the intimacy and delicacy of it and the feel of his arms holding her, making her feel safe again.

"Oh Hastur, I'm sorry. I almost blacked out, I'm sorry" she felt tearful and still a bit unsteady on her feet. Hastur guided her to a chair and helped her sit down. "Not your fault pet, you were so good, so good for me". He smiled crookedly before adding "You nearly went then".

"It's ok, it wasn't too much, I'm still here" she was feeling drunk on the adrenaline half sobbing and trying to giggle at his concerned face at the same time. “You're beautiful. Can I get a drink?" She said.

He poured her a glass, but before passing it to her he said sternly. "You gotta start using that word pet. If I hadn't been paying attention you'd have been out cold and demons don't always know when to stop. I want to keep you, not kill you." She nodded at him before taking the glass in both hands and drinking deeply.

Lenore calmed down a little and said "the contract says you won't let me pass out, or get too seriously injured though" her voice was a little uncertain. Hastur looked at her strangely "you trusted me to stop in time?" He still couldn’t quite believe that anyone would put trust in a demon like that, the sense of power it gave him was immense.

"Would've been worse if I had said it and you didn't stop wouldn't it? Safest not to try unless I really need to”. She sounded very unsure of herself and was obviously still a bit shaky. He wasn’t sure if he understood correctly. "So, you didn't try to make me stop in case you couldn't make me stop?” He didn’t believe someone would put their life in his hands if that’s how they felt. It seemed crazy. He went back to his stern tone, scolding her “you nearly passed out and lost a lot of blood. You're dangerously weird".

"It's ok though isn't it? You still want to do it." Her voice was anxious. He was delighted with her response, she really did want to be in his power, regardless of the danger. He answered semi-flippantly "ain't gonna stop being a demon, even if you like it pet” and she looked reassured. He thought ‘reassured’ was entirely the wrong reaction in the circumstances, but he liked it, she was a good pet he decided.

Hastur took the completed files, together with the incomplete sixth one, so he could ask Ligur about his notes. Lenore sat thoughtfully for a while, well, she'd signed a contract. Not sold her soul, but it felt the same. She thought about Hastur and for the first time realised she was falling in love and falling fast. It was scary and she was worried by her own recklessness and willingness to trust an avowedly evil demon, trust him with her life. The fact he was a demon meant he surely wouldn’t, or couldn’t love her back. Had she just exchanged one loveless relationship for another? At least this time around there was love on one side she concluded. Dangerous though it was, she knew she couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to. The feeling he gave her was too intense, too addictive, she had to carry on, whatever the risks. Forcing herself to stop this introspection she decided it was probably best not think too hard about it and went back to the files.


	11. Verbal Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next 2 chapters kind of go together...
> 
> Sort of a background/plot bit here - down amongst the demons this time, with some of my ideas about what Hell is like. 

Hastur was elated when he got back to Hell. He showed Ligur the contract. Ligur noted the shaky blotched signature and smears of blood, commenting "that looks like coercion. You can't force them to sign y'know".

Hastur was on the defensive immediately explaining how she'd wanted to sign before he'd even got the knife out, given permission for him to cut her and let him continue even to the point she nearly lost consciousness. "She never said her word" he finished up.

If it had been any other demon Ligur would have known he was lying, but he didn't believe Hastur could make up something this bizarre. So, let's assume he was telling the truth. She gave permission. The word 'permission' confused Ligur, what was it with Hastur's obsession for the human to want him to do things? He screwed his eyes up trying to remember what she had been like. Tallsih, shiny dress, pale skin, smelt of soap - that’s all he could remember. He tried to think about how she acted, what her character was. The only word that came to mind was 'weird'. Was she weird enough to give Hastur free reign to nearly kill her? He had a limited experience of humanity, but had seen them do a whole host of stupid things, so yeah, let's assume she'd given him 'permission'. He couldn't see that this posed any risks, if she was dumb enough to let a demon nearly kill her so be it, wasn't going to hurt them. He became aware that Hastur was staring at him. "Still looks like coercion" he maintained. "Best hope they don't want verbal confirmation from her. Once Hell see how weird she is they’ll probably say it's a 'not of sound mind' case"

Hastur was aghast and also angry "she isn't mad, she just likes me and wants to avoid getting on heaven's books. Stay with me doing the paperwork instead, that's not mad”. Ligur was less sure "anyone who wants an eternity doing paperwork with you has gotta be mad. I ought to know!"

Hastur looked about ready to fight, but Ligur came over and put an arm round him saying "nah, you're alright really. I'll help you keep your pet human if it makes you happy". He grudgingly admitted to himself that he liked to make Hastur happy. The impulse made him uncomfortable, somehow it didn't feel properly demonic. He justified it as simply being easier to give Hastur what he wanted because he didn't feel like a fight right now. He'd probably end up killing her accidentally if he carried on like this anyway. Let him keep his pet, it wasn't dangerous.

Hastur was glad to know he'd got Ligur on his side. If Ligur was supporting him then he knew he'd get what he wanted. The two of them together were unstoppable. A wave of something that was almost affection welled up in him and he pulled Ligur in for a kiss, ignoring his protests. The sharp metallic taste of the demon contrasted with the sweetness still lingering in his mouth from his time with Lenore. Ligur did taste nice he thought happily and having these two different tastes together was really very nice indeed.

The files were submitted and Ligur promised to look for the lost notes. He promptly forgot about it and didn't, but that was demons for you. In the meanwhile the rumour had got round Hell's corridors that something was up with Dukes Hastur and Ligur. Productivity was up and QA fails down. The most popular theory was that they'd stolen files from another office to submit as their own. Complaints were being made.

The contract with Lenore had been submitted for approval direct to Dagon. She had read it, been confused, and sent it on to Beelzebub who read it with raised eyebrows. They recognised it was unusual, but had significant benefits for them judging by the sudden improvement in Hastur's and Ligur's work-flow. The wobbly, bloody scrawl in the signature boxes was a concern, but they didn't think Hastur had enough imagination to force a human to sign a contract to do his admin. They were amused by his long section on blow jobs, and confused by the 'safe word'. Sounded like consensual torments, which was just weird. The clauses stipulating no loss of consciousness and injuries to be healed afterwards particularly intrigued them and they resolved to look up Hastur's miracle record.

They called Hastur to their office. He looked fidgety and defensive. Beelzebub confirmed they'd picked up his miracle record and knew what he'd done to the human. They were curious to find out what Hastur's take on this was. Why did he think the human was behaving like this? He was all bluster, saying it basically boiled down to the fact humans, and this one in particular, were weird. He robustly defended the blood stains saying she'd given permission. He didn't seem to think there was anything odd about someone wanting to be his 'Personal Assistant' - stupid phrase, as far as Beelzebub could tell it basically just meant 'pet' so why not say pet? In fact he hinted more people, more demons even, should behave like this human. As for hurting her he didn't see what the problem was, she wanted him to be happy and hurting her made him happy. End of story. He wanted to keep her, she wanted to be his and all he needed was to make it official.

Beelzebub sighed. They'd recognised Hastur's sulky, belligerent mood. If the contract was denied there would be trouble. They considered the pros - the biggest being improved work-flow. It would also be interesting to watch. The human was clearly naive, not to say stupid, if she thought she could control a demon. Let's see what happens if she says this 'word' they thought. In the meantime keeping Hastur happy and productive was useful. Maybe playing with her would also help him get out some of his need to hurt things. They'd been finding it harder to keep him away from the pits and torments lately. He was very efficient at torments, very effective, but so were most of the pit demons. Hastur's talent was wasted on mere torments, he had potential to do a lot more. If only they could keep him focused.

They knew the opposition could challenge the validity of the contract on grounds of possible coercion based on the bloody signature alone. The nature of the contract meant they might not notice their pre-emptive claim hadn't come through for centuries, if they ever did, but it wasn't worth the risk. Botch this one and they could try to use it against them some other way. Not sure how they could use it, but you couldn’t trust angels. Best to make it water tight with a written report. Besides, they wanted a word or two with this human. The contract came back 'approved subject to verbal confirmation'.

"Told you so" said Ligur gloomily. "I think I'd better come up with you and speak to your favourite pet. Get her prep’ed for the interview". Hastur groaned "they've asked me for a report on how I found her, and what led up to the contract. That's us buggered cuz it all came from the verbal deal we broke" he was keen to drag Ligur back into the verbal aspect even though he'd not technically been party to it.

"Leave the time bit out then". When Hastur looked confused he expanded: "put the rest in but don't say it was 'til 1am - looks like it was fulfilled then" adding thoughtfully "if only we can get that bloody woman on board. What's she like?"

Hastur stared off into the distance saying slowly "soft and pretty; willing and always wet. She said I was really evil and gave her nightmares and she likes me". Ligur had a strange look in his eye as both he and his chameleon looked hard at Hastur. "I mean can you get her to say whatever we need her to? Back you up on the verbal deal".

Hastur snapped out of his reverie "yeah, she's sound. I reckon she'd do almost anything for me. It's fun getting her to do stuff too and she never says 'no'. Well not yet". He grinned widely as if this presented a challenge, and Ligur rolled his eyes.

Hastur went up first, telling Ligur he needed to warn Lenore he was coming. He popped up as she was eating a sandwich and reading. So inured to the horrors of the files she could now eat while reading and not feel sick. Hastur stood looking at her without moving for several seconds. He thought she really was pretty and was happy to see she was working hard on his files without anyone forcing her to. He cleared his throat. She looked up and met his eyes smiling widely.

Tossing the sandwich aside she went over to him. He pulled her in for a kiss with just a hint of maggots. "Hmmm, you like doing that don't you. Still trying to make me scream?" She asked. He hummed happily in the affirmative.

"Ligur's coming up" he said abruptly. She was clearly a bit surprised, then a bit concerned. "No, not for that pretty pet, still thinking about it, but this is business". She seemed relieved and just maybe a little disappointed. He eyed her speculatively.

Ligur rose up before he could say any more. "So, you're Hastur's pet now?" He growled at Lenore. "Guess so" she said shyly reaching for Hastur's hand, who let her take it and pulled her close. Ligur snorted at them "gone soft" he complained.

The two demons tried to explain the procedure for verbal confirmation. Lenore thought of it as a job interview. A senior demon questioning her on why she wanted to sign and whether there has been any coercion, violence or blackmail used to get her to. She pointed out mildly that there had been plenty of violence and that it was one of the reasons for signing. Apparently this could present a problem. The miracles used for healing would all be logged so they couldn't obfuscate. What it boiled down to was that she would need to convince a senior demon of the truth of the relationship. 

The truth was plainly a very odd concept to Ligur at least. Hastur understood a little, having sensed her lust and eagerness to submit to him. He had also felt her strange elation and knew it differed from the usual human reactions to pain and fear. He still thought she was weird, and Ligur just didn't get it at all. Either from her or Hastur's standpoint. "Why's it better cuz she lets you do it? You can force her easy enough, you're a demon". Hastur had tried to explain, he really had, but fell back on the inevitable "it's just different".

Ligur was more worried about her accidentally dropping them in it in relation to the verbal deal. Lying by omission was easier than lying outright, but still had risks. But, it was what it was, and a lie was better than getting in trouble. She agreed readily enough and they practised the story.

She wasn't happy when he started questioning her about the details of what she'd done with Hastur. More accurately what she'd let, or encouraged, him to do to her. In theory she had known he already knew the details, as Hastur had made it clear he told Ligur everything. It was still unsettling to be asked a lot of highly personal questions though. It was evident that Ligur was enjoying her discomfort, also enjoying hearing her perspective on what his colleague had done. Enjoying some of it maybe a bit too much for Lenore's liking. The way he was eyeing her could be described as predatory. It was disconcerting.

The tables turned slightly when Hastur had to admit to taking off his shirt and getting his wings out for her. This was clearly highly unusual behaviour for him. Hastur blushed red and mumbled something incoherent. Ligur was staring at him in a concerned way "you did what?" He asked in a disbelieving voice. Hastur didn't have any adequate explanation for it. He squirmed and said something about it being 'different'. Ligur cocked his head to one side saying "hmmmm" and then "she's not the only one who's weird, long as you're ok". They exchanged a meaningful look that Lenore didn't understand.

Finally, when they talked themselves to a standstill, Hastur took his knife out and offered it to her. "If you're coming down you'd better take it. Any demon comes close don't hesitate to stab 'em". Not reassuring. Lenore declined saying she had one of her own and, giving a decidedly evil looking grin, bustled off upstairs. The two exchanged nervous glances, but she came back a few minutes later in a coat, with a knife on her belt and wearing a pair of very robust looking boots in black leather with silver buckles.

Hell had started off all fiery lakes of sulphur and burning hot jagged rocks, but then the damp had set in. It seeped into the walls of the newly built halls. It rose up the through the floor. It leaked through the roof. They couldn't build upwards so they'd tunnelled downwards and the water, obeying the law of gravity, followed. They'd installed gutters and pipes to divert water from the working areas so now it dripped from the overhead pipes as well. It used to put out the oil lamps and make the damp fire-logs smoke. Now it shorted the electrics causing lights to flicker in an irregular, eye-strain inducing way. It made the paperwork soggy and caused hallucinogenic moulds to grow on the walls. Licking the walls would give even the most powerful of demons a trip that lasted for days.

The whole place smelt of a mixture of gunpowder and mildew. It reminded Lenore of damp autumn days when the mist was rising, the air filled with the after smoke of fireworks and the ground covered in rotting leaves. It reminded her too of how Hastur smelt. He had the addition of an acrid tang of burning rubber together with a whiff of decomposing pond weed and strong tobacco. She loved his smell, it was pervasive and hit the back of her throat every time he held her.

He'd insisted on holding onto her for the walk through Hell's corridors. Not holding hands, but gripping her wrist painful and pulling her along at a fast pace. She had to concentrate not to stumble so didn't see much, but was aware that many of the demons stopped to stare at them as they passed. They weaved through a maze of halls, Lenore glad of her choice of boots as they splashed through the occasional deep puddle. Finally they stopped outside a door and Hastur knocked. A voice from inside yelled "bugger off" and he opened the door and dragged her through.

This was clearly a waiting room. It was reminiscent of a dentist's. The carpet had been a light colour, but had balding patches, darkly stained with the passage of many feet. In a few areas something had clearly leaked from the ceiling leaving dried rings of a dark green hue. The seats were highly uncomfortable benches of scratched, cheap plywood, de-laminating in places, with multiple discolourations. A few depressed demons slumped on the benches waiting for their coming ordeal. They stood for a few seconds next to what she supposed must be a reception desk. There were a couple of demons behind it both studiously ignoring them. Hastur cleared his throat and they ignored him even harder. Just like a dentist's waiting room in fact.

Eventually the far door opened and someone shouted. "If Hastur and that human aren't here I'm sending him to the pits". Evidently this was an invitation to enter as he pulled her through the door.

At a large desk sat a small figure with red-yellow boils all over their face. They stared with bored eyes. "Get on with it" they said to Hastur. He went through a strange pantomime of bows and arm waving finally moving on to the contract - noting the date signed and date submitted - and asking 'Lord Beelzebub' to refer to his 'extensive background report' for details. The creature at the desk yawned widely throughout, obviously getting irritated by the performance he was giving, then said to Hastur "Yezz, that is all noted. Now leave".

When the door shut they addressed Lenore "he scratched you 'til you bled, gave you bruises, bites, fractured your wrist and nearly killed you from blood loss. Why exactly should we believe you want to spend a single extra minute in his company?" Good question. She didn't think 'I like him' would cut it, so answered as nearly honestly as she could "might've fallen in love". The demon at the desk rolled their eyes. Whatever surprise they may have felt at the answer they determined not to show it. Being taken by surprise was a sign of weakness. Demons did not show weakness. They hadn’t expected the human to come up with an excuse like that, everything so far had smacked of her being stupid, but this was good - believable. They wondered what she really wanted. A spy? An attempt at immortality? Something else? Maybe there was a bit more to her than they'd thought.

To buy time while they considered it they said "that much is obvious. Why?" Lenore laughed "love isn't like that. You don't choose it, you fall into it. It's like a literal fall - feels like someone kicked you off a cliff and you're hurtling downwards with no control and no way of stopping. It's exhilarating and exciting but also terrifying. I know Hastur is a demon so won’t ever feel the same, but I don't care. I like being his pet human and I like doing his files and all the other stuff. The pain grounds things, makes it more real and, well, it's pretty hot too". No, thought Beelzebub, they’d been right first time. The human was stupid. Not mad though, and she clearly hadn't been forced to sign. That was all they needed for the report.

Lenore stopped for breath realising the speech had given more away than she'd intended. The demon at the desk seemed satisfied though. They tossed a folder with a few pages inside towards her. "Read it". Hastur's familiar calligraphy filled the pages. She began to read. The report was an extremely detailed account of everything that had happened since they'd first met. His usual style spared her nothing, giving the same obscene and intimate descriptive detail she recognised from his work reports. Maybe it was the fact Ligur had already quizzed her on all of this, or maybe it was because reading blatant porn written from Hastur's view point was really hot, but something stopped her being embarrassed. When she reached the end she looked up a smile pulling at her mouth.

"Is that accurate" they asked her watching her carefully. "Yes" she grinned happily. "Hastur's right: you're weird" they spat out. Eyeing her speculatively they said "I'll approve the contract with one caveat". Lenore looked askance. They started slowly "Hastur can be, um, ‘unstable’. It doesn't take much to unbalance him. My stipulation is that you keep his mind on the work and don't upset him. If you cause any problems then Hell will make sure you suffer. Understood". She replied "understood” nodding happily, not caring what she agreed to, so long as the contract was approved.

They gestured vaguely at the door, "wait outside, tell him I want to talk to him". Hastur was pacing up and down the well worn track in the carpet. He clearly wanted to ask her about the meeting but she pointed to the door "they want to talk to you". He looked back and forth from her to the door then bolted through it.

The demons in the waiting room had all turned to look at her. She accidentally made eye contact with one and didn't think she ought to back down. He leered at her and she gave him a tight, sarcastic smile dropping her face back to neutral a second later. He shifted in his seat sending the whole bench rocking with a nasty squeak. Obviously he felt this made him seem weak as he stood and took a step towards her. She had her hand on the knife handle, ready. He spoke in a drawl that she assumed was meant to be threatening. "So old Hastur has himself a little pet then. Always knew he was thick, but didn't realise he was so dumb he needed a human to do his files". The demon offered the insult casually and took another, would-be menacing, step towards her getting well into her personal space. “Wonder if he’s going to share” the demon said, leering at her and looking like he was about to try and find out.

The knife was at his throat before he realised what was happening. The blade pushed into him, forcing him back. She pressed the advantage and he took several steps backwards ending up pinned between her blade and the wall. He was making a loud screeching noise as the blade burned his flesh "it's fucking blessed you crazy bitch, you'll kill me". She smiled coolly, her face close to his and hissed "apologise". The trapped demon was still screeching so she projected her voice making it loud enough to drown out his cries without shouting "apologise now or I'll cut your tongue out" she twisted the knife so its point was pushing up under his jaw, his head forced right back to keep it from puncturing up towards his mouth. He still screamed so she yelled directly into his face "if the next sound out of your mouth isn't an apology I'll make sure you never speak again". He choked off his scream, clearly terrified, shouting out "sorry, I'm sorry". When she didn't move he continued "let me go you crazy bitch, I said sorry". Lenore hadn't thought this far ahead. She didn't think letting him go was a good idea, but she had said...no wait a minute, she hadn't said had she? "Don't remember saying I'd let you go demon" she hissed at him.

Behind her the voice of the interviewing demon rang out "Hastur, control your pet". She heard a familiar growl behind her and let strong hands pull her away from the terrified demon. Feeling it only fair to warn him she said "careful, I got the knife blessed". Hastur looked at her in something like awe and allowed her to put the blade away before grabbing her into him. The now freed demon attempted to regain some dignity, standing up straight making a sudden lunge in her direction. Hastur had to hold her back and the demon jumped back eyeing her warily. "What did he do?" Hastur asked. The receptionist demons had at some point started paying attention and one said gleefully "called you stupid. She was gonna cut his tongue out for you". Hastur looked back at the boss demon for permission and, on receiving a nod, moved forward to grip the offending demon by the throat engulfing it in flames.

"Dismissed" said the boss, adding "you kill any of my demons I won't be happy human". Lenore grumbled "not my fault the stupid bugger couldn't even defend itself against a human. If it'd been Hastur I'd be dead". The other demons nodded agreement murmuring together. "Out!" Shouted the boss and, turning to the others, said "you lot shut up too unless you want a trip to the pits". At this they took their leave. 

Beelzebub considered: that had been interesting, worth seeing Eric discorporated for certainly. Turning up with a blessed blade wasn’t stupid. She could have killed any of them, really killed them. They were confused: was she stupid or not? Actually, she'd just signed a contract to work for Hell with a side order of torments from Hastur. Given his proclivity for inflicting pain and suffering inviting him to practise on you was definitely stupid. Apparently she was genuinely infatuated too, really thought she was in love; with a demon! It wasn't even with an attractive demon either. Hastur for badness sake! Oh well, the contract might prove useful at some point and they'd got someone else to keep an eye on Hastur for them now. Overall it was working out quite well.


	12. The L Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following on directly from chapter 11
> 
> Bit of fluff here - they finally go on a date! There is a brief mention of maggots, but in a cute way (!?!) Some attempt to round out the characters too.
> 
> Shorter chapter this time too...

Hastur virtually skipped down the corridors a wide grin on his grubby face. He made a sharp turn and arrived at a cluster of desks strategically placed under dripping pipes. Peering round he located Ligur and triumphantly pushed Lenore towards him, turning her left then right so Ligur could get a good look. "Mine" he said simply. Lenore felt a shock of desire stab down her stomach. Somehow Hastur's official declaration of ownership, even though she believed it to be a distortion of the facts, was very arousing. He continued "and she nearly killed Eric - properly killed too not just discorporated - she’s got a blessed blade”. He said this with a certain pride, like it had been his idea for her to be so armed. He continued happily “she was gonna cut his tongue out to make him apologise". Ligur was confused "how's he meant to apologise without a tongue?" He didn’t bother asking what he was meant to be apologising for, demons had always done something that would warrant an apology, it was in their nature. Hastur answered "he apologised first, but then Beelzebub made me stop her, so she never cut it out after all" he sounded disappointed.

"What did you say to Beelzebub?" Ligur asked Lenore curiously "must've been very convincing". She had no intention of sharing the details of that conversation so just agreed "yeah, I guess it must've been". She could see he was desperate to ask more so she created a distraction "I read your report on me Hastur". He turned a funny colour and started sputtering. "They should never have showed it to you. Nasty mean trick. You shouldn't have read it neither" he looked accusingly at Lenore. "Asked me if it was accurate" she grinned "it was a good read, very hot" she teased. He looked sulky. "It did the trick anyway. Contract approved" she tried to mollify him.

"What did they say to you?" Ligur addressed Hastur. He immediately said: "nuffin", looking defensive, following up with “well, something, but it was nuffin”. They were both staring at him now and he looked uncomfortable, reluctantly amending his answer he nodded to Lenore "said you thought you were in love with me". He seemed horribly embarrassed by this. "Gotta be wrong. No one could, y'know, the L word, with a demon" he added. Ligur eyed Lenore thoughtfully, that would explain her weirdness. It still didn't make a whole heap of sense. He liked Hastur, whatever he may say about him, but for a human to think they were 'in love' with him, well, it wasn't right. "Is it true?" He asked. She replied, not entirely untruthfully: "Look, whatever I said got us the contract. Does it matter if it's true or not?"

Both demons looked at her surprised, neither of them doubted the truth of the accusation now. Lenore simply wasn’t up to demonic standards when it came to hiding things and they saw through her attempt to fudge the answer easily enough. Hastur frowned, he was confused, no-one could...well could they? Not really. If it was true... Humans were weird after all. He recovered his composure saying "what's it like? Y'know, the L thing". He was genuinely curious, it was something he’d heard a lot about, seen a lot of sin done in its name, but had no first-hand experience of. She grabbed his arms drawing him close and looking deeply into his eyes. "You can read emotions, why don't you tell me".

Hastur looked towards Ligur who shrugged so he looked back at Lenore. She had a concentrated expression and her breathing had got faster as she looked at him, evidently trying to project what she was feeling. He gazed into her eyes and reached out to try to sense her emotion. A taste of love at second-hand. He wrinkled his nose a little and shifted his shoulders. The longer he stood there the more uncomfortable he seemed to become, scratching his neck and blinking excessively. Eventually he started hopping from one foot to another then looked away. "It’s like being full of maggots" he said eventually "squirmy, trying to wriggle out everywhere, can't control 'em".

That was that she guessed. To demons love felt like being full of wayward maggots. Not very poetic. "Well, it's certainly a different way to describe it" she said, then: "I like maggots". He grinned and pulled her in for a kiss, she knew what was going to happen and very nearly tried to escape. Instead she allowed him to sink into her, the wriggling sensation covering her face. She opened her mouth slightly and breathed through her nose as they crawled in. After a few seconds she felt him becoming Hastur-shaped again and when she opened her eyes he had taken a step back and was looking at her, blinking and licking his lips.

Ligur watched these proceedings, he laughed inwardly at Hastur's description of 'love'. He didn't know what Hastur's pet was expecting but he was pretty sure 'maggots' wasn't it. He was grudgingly respectful at her response, glad at least that she hadn't said anything to upset him. Their next actions caused him to stare open mouthed, appearing about as shocked as a demon can be. "You're both weird" he spat out. He was thinking that if Hastur tried that maggot trick on him there would be trouble. He was also unaccountably disappointed that he hadn't tried it. Not wishing to pick this particular emotion apart he turned back to his desk and started ostentatiously shuffling papers ignoring the pair.

Hastur led her out of Hell, through the darkened corridors and the whispering pointing groups of demons. News had clearly spread and Hastur's pet was a person of interest. She wasn't sure what they were saying but was glad to note they kept a healthy distance. They went a different way this time and landed up at an escalator going up into daylight. "Front entrance" Hastur vouchsafed. As they approached the top he took her hand and they walked out towards the sunshine. As they went round in the revolving door, squashed together in one section at his insistence, another demon spun past them. His eyes were hidden by dark glasses and Hastur turned and scowled after him as he disappeared down the escalator.

He didn’t know what to make about the ‘L word’ revelation. His first reaction had been that it was some sort of trick. He knew he was unlovable so it couldn’t really be true. Then again the sense he'd got off her was certainly strange, he'd not felt that off a human before. He'd never really bothered with what humans felt about him before though. This time it was different, he wasn't sure why, but it was. Maybe she did think she was in love with him. In his experience ‘the L word’ was an emotion that made humans crazy and she wasn't acting normally was she? So, if she was in love with him, he amemded that thought: if she *thought* she was in love with him, how could he use it to his advantage? What else he could make her do for him, how far would she go? He decided not to push it just yet, she’d been good, done everything he’d asked, let him nearly kill her without trying to stop him. He should probably do something to show his appreciation, keep her happy so next time he wanted to try something she would let him. He had so many things he wanted to try, if only he could keep her willing.

"Want to do something human?" Hastur asked unexpectedly. She considered. "If you don't mind changing clothes we could go for a meal". They ended up in a pizza place, nothing fancy, but it was nice. "No maggots" she warned him and he chuckled. They drank wine and shared garlic bread and pepperoni pizza, with extra pineapple and anchovies at his insistence. Lenore felt like she was in a surreal alternate universe. She looked around the restaurant at the few other couples there and, turning to Hastur, sighed happily. He was being so nice to her, chatting away about tempting humans into sin and dragging their souls to Hell. Smiling at her too, with nearly clear skin, blond hair instead of his frog and eyes looking almost normal. She missed the green patches, the blank black eyes, the wicked claws and oh those wings! She longed to see him like that again: dangerous, terrifying and beautiful. He could do whatever he wanted with her: hurt her, make her scream or bleed or beg for him; and he was choosing to eat pizza, chat and smile at her instead. It was nice, she would be good for him next time, let him do whatever he wanted, show him she appreciated this.

He paid with some crisp notes out of a smart leather wallet. "That's never yours" she asked, shocked. "Nah, got it from that flash git when he barged into me. Wanna go max out the credit card too?" That was a bit more like the Hastur she knew. They found a rough looking back street pub that agreed to a dodgy cash-back off the credit card for a £5 fee. They took £250 and spent most of it at the bar, starting with a round for the few curious regulars and a few for the barman too. Hastur drank phenomenal amounts - worrying even the barman who’d been in the business for 40 years and thought he’d seen everything. Eventually they left the pub and she flagged down a cab. He just pushed the remaining notes into her hand saying he had work to do. It was a disappointing end to the day, but she supposed it had been successful overall.

Hastur was surprised at how much he’d enjoyed himself. Eating in a restaurant, trying to look human, watching her smile at him - happy and unaware of what he wanted to do to her. At one point he was sure he sensed she was thinking about him hurting her, and not in a scared way. It was strange, it felt like she was looking forward to the next time, wanted it almost as much as he did. He thought about accompanying her home, trying something straight away, but he had work to do and he wanted to plan. He liked planning, it was part of the fun.


	13. Self Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore takes charge….  
> Firstly there is more work - Hell isn’t a considerate employer and there are always deadlines.
> 
> Hastur takes charge….  
> Secondly a bit more with just Hastur and Lenore - time to step things up a little, maybe a bit intense(?), but hopefully it’s quite sweet too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter splits into 2 parts. Each on their own started off as being too short for a whole chapter so I put them together even though they are about different events. They lengthened a little in re-writing, but now I think the two segments give a nice contrast between the professional and the personal aspects to the relationship, so putting them together wasn’t as odd as I originally thought.
> 
> This was one I really did enjoy writing it so I hope people like it. Not that I didn’t enjoy writing all of it, but there gets to be a lot of plot later on and some of that was hard work to coordinate compared to these sorts of chapters…of which there are quite a few :)

Unexpectedly, the next time a demon came to call it wasn't Hastur and it wasn't Ligur. It was quite late when there was a hammering at the front door. She opened it and a woman with shimmering scales and dangerously sharp looking teeth stood in front of her. "You're Hastur's pet, right?" She asked. Lenore corrected her "I'm his Personal Assistant". She was grabbed by the arm and disappearing through the floor before she had time to react.

She recognised Hell immediately. This time she wasn't dressed for it though, wearing pyjamas and fluffy slippers. “Follow me” the demon said. Thinking she didn’t have much choice she did as she was bidden. Her feet were wet and the bottoms of her pyjamas splashed with hopefully-mud as she followed the strange demon down a long hall. As with her last walk through Hell groups of demons pointed and stared, but none came near. They reached a door and she was motioned through. Much to her relief Hastur was there. Together with Beelzebub they were poring over some papers spread out all over a large desk. Beelzebub didn't look up but said "you got her then Dagon, good. Take a look at this" the last comment was presumably addressed to Lenore so she went over to the table and looked.

The demons were worked up over a claw-back. They had put in the request some time ago and it had only just come back; with a deadline of just a few hours to have the whole case ready for presentation. They should have had the original request file with everything already in it. They didn't. They couldn't remember what their grounds were for claw-back or work out why it had been accepted. They had the scanty notes of the original hearing and a folder stuffed full of papers, but it was a mess. Hastur had done the original witness hearing, although he didn't remember it. Beelzebub seemed to expect her to be able to sort it out. By the way they were eyeing her, and the challenging stance they’d adopted, she thought it was some sort of test.

Taking a deep breath she insisted on taking over the papers and sorted them into some semblance of order, rescuing stray sheets from the floor and Hastur's pocket. She could follow Hastur's notes quite well by now and had a good idea of the sort of details that caught his attention. She got him to provide her with a notebook and pen and took about an hour reading and making notes. The impatient demons hovered around reading over her shoulder in an unnerving fashion. Eventually she read out her summary to Hastur, who, on hearing some seemingly irrelevant stuff about a fire in a neighbouring village, suddenly decided he remembered the case. "Good start" said the shimmering scales demon - Dagon she remembered - Beelzebub just scowled at her.

Now he remembered it, Hastur was full of information. Mainly information about how unfair the original hearing had been and how the judge hadn’t listened to him properly. Lenore took one of his hands, put it to her lips and gently kissed his palm. He stopped talking, confused and completely distracted. She took the opportunity to say "doesn't matter the first Judge was an ignorant bastard, you got another shot at it now. Come on - you remember the case, why should he be ours?" Beelzebub looked up at her use of 'ours' but didn't say anything.

Lenore then took charge of Hastur, asking pertinent questions and stopping him from getting sidetracked. She took more notes, lots of notes. She read things back to the assembled demons to check her understanding and the case started making sense. After another hour it became clear she was tiring, but by now they knew what they needed to do. The search was up for the key witnesses, out somewhere amongst the souls in torment. Hastur needed coaching to give his statement properly this time and the details from various scruffy sheets needed writing up onto the correct forms. Lenore ducked out and took a chair near the back of the room. Within a few minutes she'd fallen asleep.

Waking up screaming was something that had started happening to Lenore after she’d met Hastur. She had never been the best sleeper and always prone to nightmares, but the addition of knowing a real life demon (and reading his files) had intensified this. Waking up screaming and falling off a chair in actual Hell was new though. As was being scooped up by the subject of her particular nightmare and held close to his chest. Hastur shushed her, rocking her like a baby in his arms. He looked genuinely concerned "you ok?" He asked. She looked up at him sleepily "Hmmm, beautiful nightmare. You are real" and rested her head on his shoulder. He looked embarrassed and, as she woke up properly, she realised why. Cradling a sleepy human in pyjamas and fluffy slippers who called him 'beautiful', even with the addition of 'nightmare', wasn't the most dignified look for a Duke of Hell. She didn't help by giggling.

Worrying that he'd drop her unless she composed herself she pulled a serious face. "Sorry. It's a bit disconcerting waking up screaming in Hell then being picked up by the subject of your nightmare. Think I might need to go back up. Unless you need me?" Hastur looked torn "I can't go now" he said plaintively. Dagon volunteered to escort her back.

As they got to a wide corridor Dagon grabbed her hand and the world went fuzzy. The darkened halls of Hell swam before her eyes before being replaced by her own hallway. Dagon squinted at her "how'd you do that?", "Do what?" Lenore asked. She replied "sort his terrible filing out and get him to concentrate on stuff". Lenore shrugged "dunno really, just got a knack for it" and yawned widely. Dagon gave her a nod then sunk down into the floor and Lenore went to bed.

Beelzebub had told Dagon they’d approved the contract for Hastur's pet. It wasn't unknown for demons to keep humans as pets but for Hastur to get one was unexpected. He wasn't really a 'people demon', had never really shown much interest in humans outside of work. Except, she corrected herself, as practise subjects for torments. Having read his report it seemed torments, so far of a disappointingly limited nature, did indeed form part of this relationship. She would monitor Hastur's miracle record with interest, but didn't think he could maintain this sort of self control for long. She wondered how far he would push it before the human tried to stop him. Having seen her at work she wondered too whether she could pick up the pieces when he inevitably got bored of her. The human seemed to be useful, and the contract was with Hell after all, she didn't belong to Hastur exclusively. Well not if he didn't want her any more. Yes, she’d definitely keep an eye on things.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lenore hadn't seen any of the demons for a few days. She finished off the last of the files, leaving only a pile of odd papers. She was restless, unable to settle to read or watch anything. Her friends didn't call. The few who were her friends, not her late husband's work connections, presumably thought she was still in deep mourning, or abroad, or simply didn’t care. She hadn't encouraged any contact. She prowled around the house not sure what to do. In theory she could summon him, but if he was busy she didn't want to disturb him and if he wasn't busy. Well, if he wasn't busy, then it was simply that he didn't want to see her and that hurt. So she kept prowling round feeling more and more depressed.

She'd gone to bed early and taken a sleeping tablet, mainly because she was bored. It took Hastur a bit of shaking before she woke up, still groggy from the tablet. He stood up as soon as he saw her eyes open "get undressed pet, wanna give you some new nightmares". She did what he said without thinking, shimming out of her pyjamas as he took off his coat. She looked at him quizzically "don't wanna get blood on my coat again" he explained making her pulse quicken.

Lenore sat naked on the bed looking sleepy and vulnerable. He’d planned this out carefully, see how far she was willing to go, hopefully without scaring her too much. Holding a long cord he demanded: "hands" and felt a rush as she held them up without question. He quickly bound her wrists then used them to pull her round to face the head of the bed, lying her on her front. He took the rest of the cord attaching it to the headboard. He pulled her ankles back stretching her legs towards the bottom corners of the bed. She felt more cords attaching them to the bed. She was trapped.

Hastur moved out of her line of sight and she felt panic starting to build, but tried her best to hide it. He could sense her faster heart-beat and her obvious fear. Her attempts to control it were intoxicating to him. He tried to give his instructions in a reassuring voice "keep still pet, it’s gonna hurt, don't forget your word". It seemed to work, even though his actual words should have been more frightening than reassuring. He took a moment to look down at the pale, unblemished skin of her back. She was bound and helpless and he yearned to take advantage, see her damaged before his eyes, see her reaction to the pain. He took a deep breath, enjoying the anticipation of what he was about to do.

She heard a loud noise and the next thing she felt was a sudden intense pain on her back, white lights exploded in front of her eyes as she screamed. She felt his hand cool against the hot welt on her back. "Hmmm, s'ok pet, didn't even break the skin" his voice was calming. She turned and saw a wicked looking whip trailing from his hand. "Don't twist round like that pet, stay still for me" came the instruction. She turned back to the bed and sobbed as the second lash hit, crossing the first.

Hastur touched her back again making her flinch as he stroked gently, shushing her as he went. She’d barely complained, certainly not tried to stop him. He felt jubilant and his hand shook slightly. He reminded himself he was meant to be practising self-restraint, not pushing too far this time. He offered her another reassurance, deliberately putting a limit on himself at the same time "only three more pet, be good for me, stay still".

As he moved back again she tried to bury her head into the soft surface of the bed. Her back was burning, she screwed herself up, she could manage another three for him couldn’t she? Although she dearly wanted the pain to stop she didn’t want to disappoint him. She told herself to be a good pet, to let him play with her and got a sudden rush of euphoria at the thought of it. The third lash hurt worse than the first two and she screamed again, unable to prevent herself from straining against the cords binding her wrists and ankles. As he sat by her side she twitched away from the hand he hovered over her back telling him 'no'. She wasn’t sure she could manage any more.

She hadn’t said the word, but he could sense she was thinking about it. Time to encourage her again he thought. "Bit of blood now pet, you're ok though, only two left. You're going to be ok" he informed her in a matter of fact way, hoping that by keeping his voice level she would calm down enough to let him continue. He tried to keep himself calm too. The smell of blood and fear on top of the screams was making it difficult though. He could sense her trying hard to overcome a wave of panic, trying to stay still for him. The way she was offering herself, fighting against her own instincts, inviting him to keep hurting her, was exhilarating.

He stepped back and she screamed into the mattress again as the fourth blow fell. Her whole back was on fire, pain radiating from the raw nerves up to her brain and down her legs. She was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. This was too much surely? He was still standing behind her, how many more had he said? She couldn’t think.

His voice was gently coaxing "you're ok pet. Last one. Can you be good for me?" When she didn't answer he continued "you want one more don't you? For me. Say ‘please’ for me pet". He wasn't sure why but he really wanted her to answer him before he continued.

She focussed on his voice trying to detach herself from the pain. She wanted to be ‘good’ for him so desperately, just for one more. For him. She forced herself to answer.

Hastur heard her quiet ‘please’ and felt a wave of exultation almost overwhelm him. This was better than he’d planned it, she was asking him to do it. He had to take another deep breath before he could concentrate enough to raise the whip again.

She waited for what seemed like a very long time. The pain had just started to dull to a throbbing burn when the fifth one fell. This one was the worst and blotches of dark purple and bright white flashed in front of her eyes as she convulsed on the bed making loud sobbing sounds. The pain seemed to envelope her whole body and she tried to pull herself away from Hastur as he reached up to untie her wrists. When he freed her ankles she curled into a protective ball still sobbing and shaking.

After the sharp edges of the pain dulled slightly she looked up to see him looking back at her, enthralled. His eyes were shining, a faint smile on his face, a few droplets of blood speckled his shirt front. She was still shaking when he took her hand and tried to sit her up. "Can't move yet, hurts too much" she said between sobs. He ignored her protest and used her arms to pull her up towards him. “Hold on to me pet, you did really well”. She hugged him tightly. He avoided touching her back, gently stroking her hair and shushing her, letting her hold him and cry into his shirt.

When she pulled back Hastur wiped away the tears then put his hands either side of her face and kissed her. She let out another sob as the slight movement caused another jolt of pain from her back. He spoke softly "you're so pretty, so very pretty and so brave. Such a good pet, so good for me". The words of praise made her feel better, so pleased that he appreciated her, what she'd endured for him, the pain didn't seem too bad now. She was also reacting to the rush of endorphins feeling high and euphoric.

Hastur continued: "come on, I'll show you." He guided her up and towards a full length mirror and turned her round. Another full length mirror was right in front of her, she was sure there only used to be one. Angling it slightly he gestured for her to look. Her back looked awful. The tails of each individual lash could be seen around the edges but the centre, where the blows had crossed, was covered in blood. There were trails of it over her back and buttocks too. She was disbelieving that she’d managed to endure this. Surely he couldn’t have caused that much damage with only five lashes?

Hastur's expression was one of pride and she suddenly realised he was showing off. He wanted to impress her. This made her smile. He looked so happy with the way he had damaged her, so triumphant. She felt a wave of affection for him wash over her and pulled him towards her wincing slightly at the movement, kissing him, starting delicately but getting more passionate. The mood was dispelled when he put an arm round her, touching her back, and she yelled in pain. Hastur laughed, letting her go and looking ruefully at the blood stained arm of his shirt. "Will this give you more nightmares pet?" He asked hopefully. "Very possibly sweetheart" she answered smiling, then saying in a serious voice "my back is burning, it really hurts, can you make it stop now please". He nodded and she watched spellbound as the marks erased themselves and the raw bloody edges knitted together.

Hastur was standing close and she was suddenly very aware of him. He took her hands, guiding them onto the buttons of his shirt. "You can take this off pet" he offered, feeling he should reward her for her good behaviour.

Lenore undid the buttons and eased his shirt off. The burn scars were exactly as she remembered and she looked for permission before touching them gently. She touched the other side too, using her fingertips to brush the green patches, feeling their slight oiliness. The after effects from the pain were intensifying her emotions, making her feel like she was floating on a cloud of pure bliss. She whispered adoringly "so beautiful, so perfect, oh my beautiful creature" and kissed him softly. Her hand ran down to the band of his trousers and slid under it. He pulled it away guiding it back onto his chest.

He hadn’t planned this as a lustful encounter, more as a test. She had certainly passed. He felt so proud of her. Happy and grateful that his pet had done this for him, endured it for him. He was glad he'd put a limit on himself though. Hearing her whispered 'please', choked out between the sobs and screams, felt so good he wouldn't have wanted to stop otherwise. He was desperate not to spoil it, keep her willing, not push too far. To do that he knew he needed to keep control of himself, practise self-restraint, no matter how difficult. He had however already started thinking of next steps. If she could manage this, what else?

He allowed her to continue gently touching his chest and kissing him for a little while longer. It was difficult for him, he nearly believed she meant what she said about the L-word and thinking he was beautiful, but couldn’t quite quell his suspicions. He still half expected to find it was some sort of trick; that she was deceiving him. He was unused to being admired or to the sensation of being touched like this. It wasn't unpleasant, but the intensity of it was getting a little overwhelming now. Time to stop her. "Ok, you earned that pet, but I'm getting dressed again now" he put his now miraculously blood free shirt back on.

They stood awkwardly for a few seconds before both trying to speak at once. She signalled for Hastur to continue. "We won the case. The one you helped with. There's a party to celebrate. You should come" he suggested. She was surprised: "Are you inviting me to a party in Hell? With demons? Won't I stand out a bit?" He considered "well, you met some demons already. Dagon likes you. Half the others are terrified of you after that blessed knife incident. It'll be fun". Temptations were a demon's speciality she supposed and she was definitely tempted. "Not sure it's a good idea" she demurred. "No, it's a really bad idea, so we should definitely go" he beamed at her and she relented. "I'd better find some clothes then". 


	14. A Night in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously they’re off to the party in this one. The second part is more involved….. Ligur gets involved anyway, probably about time too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this chapter - it started off as just a bit of silliness all about the party, but developed as I re-wrote and I took out some of the frivolities. It's more about the relationships than the party now, but I've kept in a few of the ideas. It ended up being quite long in the end too, but didn’t seem worth trying to split it.

She wasn't sure what to wear for a party in Hell so asked Hastur's advice. He was a bit nonplussed. "Dunno, clothes aren't my thing". That much was fairly obvious, she should have known better.

She went through items in her wardrobe and he gave his comments. Hastur's taste was for 'pretty' clothes, which seemed to mean lacy or gauzy layered stuff, tight bodices, low necklines and anything with buckles or lacing 'cuz you can tie people up with it'. Wearing clothes you could be tied up with didn't seem a sensible idea. He was definitely averse to bright colours so in the end she went for a simple black dress with a bolero jacket and knee high boots. She tied her hair up with strips of trailing lace and chiffon, in deference to his taste. She twirled round for him and he nodded saying "pretty" approvingly and off they went.

The world faded in and out in that disconcerting way. They were once again standing in one of Hell's wide corridors. The lights flickered slightly and there were a few drips from the pipes near the ceiling. It was fairly quiet though. Lenore did not miss the pointing, staring, groups of demons. Hastur dragged her off down the hall and she wondered why they always ended up so far from their destination every time they came down here. Just as she was thinking that he turned abruptly and pulled her through an open door.

She found they were standing at the edge of a large, noisy room that smelled of sweat. Hell's denizens were mostly dancing and she realised Hastur's somewhat unorthodox dance style at their first meeting was positively restrained in comparison to these demons. The music was mostly from the 1980s. The demons had their own take on the hits, they cheered loudly when Temptation came on, but were 'falling lower and lower' rather than climbing higher, they 'dammed the rains down in Africa' and "Every Breath You Take" took on a very sinister note when sung by demons. The drinks ran to bright sticky cocktails in various garish colours and, bizarrely for Hell, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Hastur shoved his way to the bar pulling her along behind him. He secured glasses and two jugs of drink and found a high table for them to stand at. He poured her a glass of strong tasting bright blue stuff that may have been a cocktail or possibly an industrial cleaner. She sipped nervously but it didn’t seem to be poisonous. He looked at the glass and then obviously decided it was too small, drinking direct from the jug instead. The next trip to the bar secured some bright green stuff that she eyed very warily, it tasted strongly of aniseed and she wondered if it contained absinthe - sipping very carefully just in case. Hastur had no such restraint, although at least this time he used a glass.

They took a turn on the dance-floor with Hastur shoving hard to get them some space. It was fun and she sang along to the music, safe in the knowledge no one could hear over the general racket. Hastur yelled in her ear something about karaoke and was dragging her across the room again. He pulled her into yet another room where a demon on a slightly raised stage was belting out "Staying Alive" very out of tune. Hastur grabbed a passing figure, short and dumpy with green scales, and was gesturing wildly at her. She realised he was trying to sign her up to sing. She made it clear she wasn't going to but he kept at her. She was getting more and more vehement but he ignored her and shoved a list of songs under her nose demanding she pick one. Again she refused and could see he was getting angry. He wasn't going to stop until she agreed, she had no way out. As a last resort she yelled "deal" into his ear and he stopped, looking at her oddly for a few seconds then bursting out in hysterical laughter.

He led her to a quieter room where a few clusters of demons sat on sofas around low tables. They could hear each other talk here. He sat, then pulled her down onto him so she was balanced awkwardly on his knee. "So that's your definition of 'really need to' is it?" He asked. When she looked confused he elaborated "that word. You don't use it when I whip you bloody, but when I ask you to sing, suddenly it's too much?" He started laughing again. "Least I know you know how to use it. I was starting to think you'd never say it". He grinned happily.

He jumped up nearly tipping her onto the floor as a short figure approached them. A halo of black fuzz seemed to surround their head. Beelzebub sat down at the end of the sofa and indicated they should sit too. "I got her to say it" Hastur crowed, triumphant. "Finally you had enough" Beelzebub looked pleased. "It was the karaoke, she wouldn't sing" Hastur explained, he evidently found this highly amusing, but Beelzebub's face changed "you're weird" they said to Lenore squinting at her. They followed it up with: "solid piece of work that. You did well". Then they stood abruptly and walked away. Hastur was stunned "never said that 'bout my work" he looked sulky. Lenore looked at him seriously "think it was addressed to both of us beautiful" which cheered him up.

Beelzebub meant what they'd said. Lenore had done a good job. She'd certainly controlled Hastur well. They were keeping an eye on his miracle record and were aware of the injuries he'd just healed, had assumed when Hastur told them she'd used her 'word' that that was the explanation. On hearing it was karaoke; well it was ridiculous. Weird humans. They were also surprised at Hastur's restraint, he'd stopped using that whip well short of his usual limits. They didn't understand it, but it was promising. They'd been trying to get him under control for six thousand years, if the human could do it in under six weeks, well it was impressive. Not going to admit it though Beelzebub thought scowling.

The party showed no sign of stopping and Hastur set off, saying something about more drinks. Left alone she looked round curiously. Demons sat together talking in small groups. She was surprised to see one couple getting very intimate and looked away embarrassed. She realised a couple of grubby figures in Iron Maiden t-shirts (Number of the Beast) were staring in her direction. She reached for the knife she'd hung from her studded belt and waited.

They approached looking strangely nervous. One pushed the other forward. He shuffled his feet, eventually looking up at her. "You're the one working with Duke Hastur aren't you? You nearly killed Eric with a blessed blade". He sounded over awed. She smiled sweetly, confirming "yup” adding maliciously “he said something I didn't like. I’ve got the knife with me if you want to see". The demon was horrified "no, no it's fine, no that's fine". The other peered round his companion, asking in a hushed, urgent sounding voice "how'd you stop his Disgrace setting fire to you? I'd do anything to stop him setting fire to me". She found his question endearing, but decided to play with him. "Anything? Really. Shall I draw up a contract?" He squeaked and jumped back muttering "figure of speech". Suddenly they both looked up, then fled.

Hastur sat back down next to her depositing a drinks tray on the table as he did so. "They bothering you?" He asked concerned. "Nah, wanted to know how I stopped you setting fire to me" she explained. She continued thoughtfully "why haven't you set fire to me by the way?", "You're not a useless incompetent idiot" he said seriously, then pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy and wet and she had to wipe her face afterwards. Hastur seemed quite drunk already but gestured to the tray saying "more booze". There was a collection of different shapes and sizes of glasses with various shades of content. "Dint know what you wanted so got a selection" was his explanation. She picked something that looked like pinà colada, with a big chunk of pineapple perched on the glass and an iridescent mould adorning one side. It tasted nice though.

Hastur made another couple of trips to the bar, and, when the bar shut, he did a sweep of nearby tables 'rescuing' more drinks. In between drinks he threw out random facts about different demons who came into his field of vision. Apparently a tall skinny demon with green hair and a limp was 'up from the pits', while a stocky bald one was 'accounts' and a 'swatty bellend' to boot. A slimy looking one with greasy hair did 'sod all' and a bent looking twisted figure was 'just an arse'. Dagon put in a brief appearance, a large glass with a fizzing sparkler in it in one hand. She grinned widely, showing off her sharp teeth. "You're drunk" she shouted at Hastur. She winked at Lenore before disappearing. Lenore realised Dagon was quite right: Hastur was very drunk.

The crowd was thinning and a voice shouted over the loud speakers "party's over, back to work. Go on - scram". Hastur stood up, then immediately sat back down again. He fixed Lenore with an unsteady eye saying "might have to carry me". As this clearly wasn't feasible she pulled him to his feet and put a supporting arm round him. He seemed to manage well at first, leading them confidently off towards a door at the back. Unfortunately an unexpected table got in their way and Hastur sprawled over it. "Nope" he said in a final sounding voice "need to carry me". Even if she could've carried him she had no idea where they were going.

Leaving him slumped on the table she did a reccy looking for a familiar face. Luckily she spotted Ligur on the dance-floor, he was shoving some persistent dancers in the direction of the door. She grabbed his arm and just managed to duck as he swung a punch towards his unknown attacker. On seeing who it was he looked puzzled. "Hastur's passed out on a table, said he needs carrying" she explained. He went with her and between them they managed to right him and half walked, half dragged him across the room and out into the halls. Ligur steered them confidently off to a small room with a pile of mattresses in one corner and they manhandled Hastur onto them.

Ligur was indeed puzzled. Hastur had told him about her help with the claw-back, which made sense and he was reluctantly impressed. He'd then gone on to explain his plan for the human. He didn't think she'd like it, would definitely try to stop him, which may or may not be successful but certainly wouldn’t please Hastur. Yet here she was, at the party and still looking at Hastur with the same soppy, soft expression. He wasn't sure what had happened, but at the moment he was more annoyed with Hastur than curious about her. Why he insisted on getting this drunk, too drunk to even miracle himself sober, Ligur didn't know. Well, there would be words, probably punches too, he expected Hastur to make it up to him. Making him rush off with a bloody human in front of other demons. He expected something in return. After dumping him on the mattresses he turned to the human. "He'll do. Probably sleep it off in a couple of hours. Do you wanna go back up?"

Lenore wasn't sure what to do. She felt protective over Hastur. Besides, she didn't want to ask to go home just to sit there bored out of her mind. She was a bit tipsy and Ligur was just standing looking at her so she felt the need to say something. "Might stay" she eyed the mattress pile considering it. "This is our place" Ligur said, that didn't sound very inviting, but was interesting. She ummed and ahhed. Ligur could see her indecision. "Go on then, lie down, long as you don't mind me joining you" he smiled worryingly. The alcohol had made her slightly reckless so she lay on the mattress spooning Hastur, without thinking too much about it. She felt Ligur lying down behind her. He threw an arm across both her and Hastur. She lay still and, before long, the evening caught up with her and she fell asleep sandwiched between the two demons.

Ligur wasn't sure why he'd agreed she could stay. They'd never let anyone else use this room before; it was their space. It felt odd having someone else here, but he had to admit she smelled interesting and he was curious what Hastur saw in her. Hastur had also mentioned something about sharing. That might be a good way for him to make things up. It would be nice to feel her struggling and hear her screaming. Although for some reason he didn't understand Hastur wasn't keen on him hurting her, wanted him to be gentle! Oh well, he could bide his time, maybe when Hastur had finished with her it would be his turn.

She wasn't sure how long she'd slept, but was woken by the sound of a hissed conversation going on either side of her. The two demons were talking. Hastur said "she'd let you if I asked, bet you anything". Ligur said "she'll say 'no'. Dunno why you care, I could do it anyway". Hastur hissed back "S'not like that, it's different, she's gotta agree or it won't work". Now fully awake she opened her eyes and said "who's got to agree what?" Hastur screeched, hurting her ears. She flinched backwards pushing herself hard into Ligur in doing so. He growled and put a hand on her hip. He leant into her, his mouth right next to her ear "Hastur says you'll let me fuck you, long as he can watch".

She realised, belatedly, that sleeping here might have been an error of judgement. Although Hastur had mentioned this scenario before she hadn't been sure if he was serious. She'd also envisaged any attempt to take it further would be slow and cautious on Hastur's part. She certainly wasn't expecting to wake up and be thrown in at the deep end like this. She felt the pressure of Ligur's hand on her hip and the push of his body against hers and remembered him saying 'I could do it anyway' and realised she was scared. "Told you she wouldn't want to" said Ligur taking her silence as a 'no'. She was irritated at his assumption and blurted out "didn't say 'no' did I?" before she’d really thought about it. As Ligur growled into her ear she understood she was now committed.

Hastur gave a high pitched giggle. "Told you so" he crowed delightedly. He had tasted her moment of fear and been concerned. Now he was vindicated, he was also determined not to let her be hurt or scared. He wanted her to yield to his desires, to trust him, to obey without question. To make that happen he was going to ensure she was protected. He said to Lenore "you're my good, pretty pet, you do what I say and I'll look after you". He turned to face her and kissed her. Ligur leaned over too, pushing in, and they shared an awkward three way kiss. Hastur thought he'd been right, the two of them together tasted wonderful. He smiled happily and got up, sitting back on his knees. "Take your clothes off pet" he instructed confidently. Lenore stood and removed her clothes quickly, throwing each item over onto the far corner of the mattress. Ligur sat up as well and two demons watching her stripping sent thrills down her. When she was naked she turned to Hastur, who sat wide eyed. She asked "how do you want me?" eliciting low growls from both demons.

Hastur stood in front of her motioning Ligur to come and stand behind her. Time to reassure her he thought, make sure she stayed compliant. He took her hands and placed them on his shoulders saying "look at me pet, focus on me" then to Ligur "go on touch her". Lenore let out a soft moan, she was finding the situation extremely erotic. Hastur was delighted, she seemed to be enjoying it, this was what he'd hoped would happen, what he'd told Ligur would happen. He had already warned his fellow demon that this would be different to their usual activities, he had to try to be gentle and, importantly, he had to do what he was told and not hurt her. Ligur had been dubious, but could see how much Hastur wanted it so had reluctantly agreed.

Ligur's hand touched her back and stroked downwards stopping at her arse and squeezing firmly. He moved to her side, stepping in closer, and ran his other hand from her neck down to her stomach then back up to cup one breast massaging it slowly. "Soft" he confirmed to Hastur who answered "bet she's wet too". Hastur cupped her chin in one hand saying "are you wet for my friend pet?" As she nodded he said "legs apart then, let him check" she complied. He was reasonably confident Ligur would keep his word, but was still nervous of her reactions, if she asked him to stop he wondered if he could keep Ligur under control. He eyed Ligur thoughtfully, if he could keep both of them obedient to him all would be well. The delicate situation, trying to keep the balance between them, was exhilarating.

He gave Ligur permission to take it further "go on, have a feel, see if she's wet" and watched as Ligur moved his hand down to feel her, cautiously at first. His other hand still roughly squeezing her arse. Hastur watched her carefully as Ligur pushed his fingers further in between her lips making her groan at the sensation. She looked happy, impatient to begin and Ligur confirmed "very wet".

Hastur hummed happily saying "pretty, slutty little pet" in a pleased voice. Ligur was continuing his exploration and when he touched her clit she cried out in pleasure pushing into him, her hands tightening their grip on Hastur's shoulders. Ligur continued playing with her, pushing his fingers in and out of her cunt. The strangeness of the situation, the sensation of being out of her depth (and loving it) was getting too much. She felt she couldn't stand up for much longer. Her eyes closed for a second and when she opened them it was to see Hastur watching closely. "Do you want him to fuck you pet?" To her own surprise her answer was an enthusiastic "yes".

This was going better than he'd expected, Lenore didn't seem scared now, all he could sense was lust. He put his thoughts into words "hmmm, you are a little slut aren't you?" She answered in the affirmative much to his delight. "Ask him nicely then" she took a couple of deep breaths before saying "will you please fuck me Ligur?"

Hastur felt he could get away with pushing things a little, so added "tell him you’re my demon slut, you want to be fucked hard so I can watch". When she obeyed adding 'please' in a whine full of genuine desire Hastur felt a wave of lust almost overwhelm him; his pet, doing exactly what he wanted, anxious to please him, it felt good. He looked at Ligur, who had got over his original uncertainty and was radiating lust too. So far so good. He addressed Ligur "Well? Do you want to try out my pet?"

Ligur did indeed, so far this had worked exactly as Hastur had said it would. He was curious to see if the state of affairs would continue. He was also starting to really enjoy her obedience, her willingness to be used like this. He could tell Hastur was enjoying himself, could also smell the lust coming off her and mixing with his and Hastur's own it was intoxicating. He wanted to see what Hastur would get her to do next, this was fun.

Hastur directed her onto her hands and knees on the mattress and sat in front of her. She felt Ligur behind her again resuming his touches. She pushed herself back into him moaning loudly. She hadn't been sure about this, but any doubts had gone completely. Hastur's voice was hypnotic, all she wanted was to do what he said, make him happy. He was treating her as absolutely his property and this was exactly what she felt like. It was wonderful.

Hastur spoke over her head addressing Ligur "She's ready for you. You can start whenever you want". Her total obedience and the waves of lust from her prompted him to add "unless you'd like to hear her beg first?" Ligur muttered in a low voice "will she do that?" Both demons liked it when their victims begged, it added a certain extra frisson to things. Hastur answered confidently "you'll do whatever I say won't you pet?" Not waiting for an answer he went on "go on then, beg for him like a good demon slut".

Her brain went into meltdown, this really was too much. Waves of lust coursed through her and she obeyed Hastur's instruction urgently begging Ligur to fuck her. This clearly had an effect on Ligur as she felt his rock-hard cock being thrust roughly into her. He wasn't gentle, gripping her by the hips and slamming into her hard. She could hear his grunts as he fucked her at a frantic pace, it felt so good. She looked up and saw the lust in Hastur's eyes as he watched, which only made it better. This was exactly what he'd got her to ask for. She delighted in the idea of being his demon slut begging to be fucked hard for his entertainment. She couldn't help but push herself back onto Ligur at each thrust, watching Hastur as she did it, this was so good.

With Hastur watching and the human shoving hard back against him Ligur knew he wouldn't last long. Clearly he didn't need to be too gentle, she seemed to be loving his rough treatment. He was digging his fingers into her hips hard enough to bruise. He could feel his orgasm building, he briefly made eye contact with Hastur and let out a hoarse cry, cumming as he pulled the human tight onto him.

Hastur was delighted, telling her to ‘say thank you’, which she did. He wanted her so much now, she was his, she'd allowed him to use her to please Ligur, enjoyed it even. The expression on the other demons face as he'd fucked her had made him desperate for his turn. He could barely hold himself back. He wanted to make sure she was ok first though, so he took a deep breath before taking hold of her chin, looking into her eyes, and asking "bet you want to be fucked again don't you? One demon's not enough for you is it my greedy demon slut?" He waited anxiously for her reply. He didn't have to wait long. Her desperation seemed to match his own as she told him exactly how much she wanted him, finishing up with "please don't be gentle".

This was too much for Hastur, he couldn't think clearly any more. Acting on instinct he growled aggressively and rapidly scooted round behind her. If possible he was even rougher than Ligur. His cock was thicker and curved to hit her g-spot at each stroke, making her yell out for more. He reached a hand down to touch her clit and between the two sensations she quickly reached orgasm. Her contractions tipped Hastur over the edge too and he came with a loud shout. He leaned down on top of her whispering into her ear "you're so good, my pet, my pretty little demon slut, so good".

After a few seconds she felt him getting up and she sat back on her knees. There was an unpleasant oozing feeling between her legs, but Hastur waved a hand at her vaguely and she immediately felt cleaner. Looking round she saw Ligur looking at her, his eyes half closed and a slight smile on his face. Hastur was watching her with a doting, happy expression. She felt elated, both demons smiling at her, pleased and satisfied because of her.

After a minute or so basking in their approval she pulled herself together again. Above all she wanted to get home, but she also wanted them to know she'd enjoyed it too. She knew demons weren't emotional creatures so felt she'd better be careful what she said. Taking a deep breath she said brightly "well that was fun". Adding "I'd rather like to go home now, and I need a new box of files". The two demons looked at her surprised. Hastur laughed loudly saying "of course pet, anything you want, better get dressed first". She picked up her clothes pulling them on quickly. Ligur said slowly "did you enjoy that?" In a disbelieving tone. She cocked her head to one side saying "of course, wouldn't have said 'thank you' otherwise would I?" She turned to Hastur saying "I'm having food as soon as I get back if you want to come eat?" belatedly adding "Ligur too if you want". Ligur shook his head, but before they left he said to Hastur "I see what you mean about it being different, maybe I need to get a pet too".

As soon as they got back to the house Hastur took her hands in his saying "look at me". She did and he asked "you ok pet? It wasn’t too much for you?" She smiled "didn't say the word did I sweetheart? I enjoyed it anyway" He smiled back "so long as you're ok. You were amazing", wonder in his voice. 

She made tea for herself and opened a bottle of wine for Hastur. She heated a frozen pizza and they ate, chatting vaguely about the worst of the dancing at the party and the demons' penchant for brightly coloured cocktails. A new box of files had appeared in the library and Lenore was just considering taking a look when she decided to ask the question that had been on her mind for a while now. "What's the deal with you and Ligur?"

Hastur feigned confusion about the word 'deal' but she said "you know what I mean". He looked serious, pursing his lips, finally saying "it's complicated". Clearly that wasn't going to satisfy her. It was difficult for Hastur to explain, mainly because he'd never thought about it before. Ligur had just been there, virtually from the beginning, he supposed he just took it for granted that he would always be there. He tried to think. "We're demons right? So been around for thousands of years. You get a bit lonely - no love from Her and the only other distraction is the humans and they don't hang around very long. So we do stuff together, not just work y’know? Sometimes just us or we use humans too. Normally the humans don't like it; lots of screaming”. At this point he gave a worrying grin. Lenore decided she didn’t want to know what he did to make the other humans scream. She kept forgetting they were demons. He continued, as if hearing her thoughts “you can't really be friends with demons - evil, deceitful creatures - but he's useful, y'know? It’s like I can almost trust him, a bit, sometimes, well not really 'trust', but I don't think he wants to kill me all the time. I like him I guess, known him nearly forever. He's...well, he helped me. Look, it’s just complicated ok?" He looked confused and unsure of himself. So, thought Lenore, they're not quite a couple, 'friends with benefits' maybe. Clearly there was a history to this that she didn’t know too. Interesting.

Sensing he wasn't keen to talk about it she dropped the subject. Turning instead to the files she indicated the leftovers from the first box saying they didn't seem to fit anywhere. The papyrus scroll he chuckled on the fire saying it had had Ligur's sigil on it. The other odds and ends he advised keeping hold of in case they found the rest of the file. Finally he turned to the pornographic lithographs. They looked early 20th century and were awkwardly posed with the men sporting moustaches and the women with ample curves and corsets. Hastur began looking through them offering his commentary. The carefully positioned models were not particularly erotic to look at, but Hastur's enthusiastic comments were a big turn on. He definitely had a thing for threesomes and mentioned Ligur a few times. He said finally "I've never had two demons, er people, whatever, who actually want to do stuff with me. It's nice". He was adorable she thought, but didn't say so.


	15. Wanna Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who’s had burns knows how much they hurt and inflicting them deliberately is a well know torture technique - this chapter focuses on that, and their reactions to it.
> 
> Basically it confirms what we already know: Hastur really does like hurting people. Oh, but isn’t he so nice about it and so considerate afterwards….awww ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still building up the relationship here, it might be starting to feel like there isn’t much plot outside of the character dynamic, but there will be later, promise. There are a few more chapters focusing on the interpersonal stuff first though.

Lenore woke the next day feeling energised, so worked on the new box for 14 hours non-stop. It wasn't pleasant reading. There were the usual temptations, but also some disciplinary and appraisal forms. The things demons did to each other were worse than some of the things they did to people. At least with the people there was usually an element of choice - the person chose to give in to temptation or sell their soul. With demon on demon violence it seemed brutal and unfair. Surely no one did a bad job deliberately, so the punishments doled out couldn't help them improve could they?

There were a few remarks she didn’t understand, references to ‘internal investigations’ that seemed to be undertaken by something called ‘Loyalty and Justice’. The comments were brief and seemed to relate to stuff outside of the normal day to day work patterns so she didn’t pay much attention. She was slightly alarmed to find one of Hastur’s underlings seemed to have completely disappeared off the work rotas with the only explanation being a note in red saying ‘L&J - House’. Not understanding the comment she put the form to one side. She’d ask Hastur about it next time he came up. She took a break for food and sleep and had nightmares again. At least she didn't wake up in Hell this time.

Hastur arrived at lunchtime the following day. She'd not eaten yet and suggested food but he shook his head. "Wanna hurt you pet" he said simply. Lenore flinched remembering the contents of the disciplinary files. He smiled in a way that was not at all reassuring. "Give you a choice pet. I can use the whip again or try something new." She vividly recalled the pain of the whip so said "something new" feeling she'd made a mistake when she saw his face. "Good pet. I'm going to have fun playing with you, but I'll be nice too. You want me to be nice don't you?" He asked and she found herself agreeing with him.

Hastur had only half planned this, he offered her the choice, hoping she'd let him try something different. He was still elated at her reaction to the whip and to his treatment of her with Ligur. He was starting to feel a bit surer about her, more confident in his control over her. When he said he wanted to hurt her he really meant it, it was almost a physical necessity. Sensing her fear just spurred him on. He needed this. She was frightened and she was right to be. He intended to test her further this time, take things up a level. If his judgement was correct she would let him, not try to stop him too soon. He wanted to make her scream for him, cry and beg, but ultimately submit to it willingly.

He told her to strip then gestured to a chair that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Sit down pet". She did as he asked and he busied himself with strapping her arms to the back, her ankles to the bottom of the back legs and knees to the front. The straps forced her to sit well forward on the chair, sprawling back with her legs spread. He was amazed that she had simply stripped and allowed him to strap her down, hadn't tried to question him, hadn't even hesitated. If she had been in any state to notice she'd have seen his hands were trembling with the rush it gave him. He could taste her fear, feel her reluctance, but he also got the slight undercurrent of lust. His anticipation was building, he could hardly hold himself back. Taking a breath in, he reminded himself he needed to reassure her, feed the lust he could sense in the background, give her the incentive to let him continue past the point she would normally want to stop.

Despite the rising fear she felt turned on by this position. Hastur stroked up the inside of her thigh just brushing her and hummed his approval "wet already". He leant in and kissed her, a deep passionate kiss and she whined in disappointment as he pulled back. Smiling evilly he held one hand in front of her face and it ignited, quickly becoming entirely engulfed in fire. She could feel the heat and tried to pull back, but was unable to. He blew at the hand gently and the flames disappeared, but his fingertips retained a faint red glow.

Everything was in place for him to start. He was so impatient to begin, but kept his voice calm as he advised her "I need you to be good now pet, try to stay still for me". Moving behind her and reaching down he placed one finger on the top of her thigh. It burnt immediately and she cried out. She managed to hold still at first but soon started to strain in her straps as the burn went deeper. Her cry and struggles flooded him with a sense of power. He tried not to get overwhelmed. Attempting to reassure he said "you can use your word, but I want you to try to be good ok?" His voice was deep and sounded full of lust as he waited anxiously for her nod. When she agreed to be 'good' it felt almost like a physical release. He had to concentrate to control himself, bringing his other hand up he touched her gently.

She tensed for the pain but it didn't come. Instead he slid his hand up so it just rested against her sex. He squeezed very slightly and she whimpered, the burn was still throbbing but his intimate touch made it fade into the background slightly. The fear subsided and she relaxed enough to enjoy the sense of offering him her submission as a gift, wanting to please him so much it hurt almost as much as the burn. His hand stayed in place but he touched her again with a finger from the other hand, this time on the opposite thigh. She was sure she heard a sizzle as the searing pain hit. She threw back her head crying out.

Hastur had sensed her absolute submission and felt waves of desire crashing over him. Her reactions were everything he'd hoped for. He was so attuned to her now, could feel every thought almost as if it was his own. He withdrew the burning finger and began massaging her again with his other hand.

The contrast was too much for her and she sobbed. Both burns radiated pain and she was desperate to find something cold to rest against, but was trapped in place. He whispered into her ear, insidiously encouraging, "the longer you put up with the pain the nicer I'll be, you do want me to be nice don't you pet?" He didn't wait for a reply. She felt the burning again on her inner thigh this time. Shouting loudly she tried to rock the chair backwards but it must've been anchored to the floor as it wouldn't budge. The burning touch stopped, but again the pain only subsided slightly. With his other hand he eased a couple of fingers between her lips and rubbed carefully over her entrance and up to her clit.

Hastur was surprised at the wetness he found when he touched her. It was hard for him to resist the urge to concentrate solely on her arousal. He hadn't finished hurting her yet, knew she could take more; would endure it for him, to please him. He still hadn't made her scream. He’d press harder this time, burn deeper.

At the next burning touch she felt tears in her eyes and heard herself screaming. It was as if the pain had expanded to cover the whole of her leg. As soon as he'd stopped burning her Hastur's fingers probed at her cunt again, she felt his fingers pushing in as he murmured "so tight, but still so wet". He pushed them in and out a few times, pulling out to circle her clit. She half moaned half sobbed. Without the movement stopping she felt another burst of pain high up the inside of her thigh. She was screaming and straining with the intensity of it, it barely subsided as he drew his hand away. She became aware he was still pushing fingers inside her and keeping up steady contacts with her clit. She was caught between the two sensations and couldn’t think clearly.

Her screams nearly sent him over the edge. Concentrating, he managed to keep control of himself. He felt he had the balance right. She was in a lot of pain and frightened, but still reacting to his attentions to her clit. It was intoxicating and he was half drunk with the power he held over her. The level of pain depended entirely on him: how hard he pressed, how many fingers he used, how long he held his hand in place. He tried to maintain discipline, he would ramp it up but wanted to increase the pain levels slowly, tease it out to give himself time to really enjoy his control over her.

She was shivering despite the burning heat and tears were coursing down her face as she sobbed. No sooner had she recovered enough from the burn to notice his ministrations to her cunt than another jolt of pain hit her, each time was worse than before. She screamed, feeling she couldn't cope and wondering if she should say the word. Her eyes opened and she saw his face leaning in close to hers "you can hang on for a bit longer can't you pet? Be good for me". She sobbed, but gritted her teeth and managed to nod. "Good pet" he said before the pain shot through her again. She threw her head back and shook it hard shouting "no more, please, please, no more" as yet more tears fell from her eyes, but she didn't say the word. It hurt so much, but she wanted to be good, let him hurt her, be his pet, utterly his. She whispered "please" again, not sure if she was asking him to stop or for the resolve to endure more for him.

Suddenly he couldn't control himself any more, the screaming and begging triggered something in him. Her conflicting desires for him to stop but also for him to continue, her desperation to be his, to please him despite her suffering. It was better than any orgasm. He was reeling from the intensity of the feeling, could hardly think straight. Giving her no time to recover he burned her again, this time applying much more pressure to the touch. Wanting to really hurt, push her further, damage her, make her completely his.

She was still struggling from his last touch when she felt the pain again, but this time it seemed to come from all over and she hyperventilated feeling her vision start to narrow into a sharply focused tunnel. She was panicking and started stuttering out "d...d..de" but then Hastur was shushing her saying "it's ok pet, it's ok, I heard you. We're finished now, you did really well, good pet" she felt something mercifully cool against her thighs and looked down to see he was applying a wet towel.

Hastur took a deep breath, he'd nearly gone too far, nearly lost control. She was so good though. Making her suffer like this, hearing her scream, cry, beg, was addictive. The taste of her conflicting emotions made him feel drunk, he wanted it so badly. That she had allowed him to feel this was astonishing. He felt a wave of definitely undemonic affection. She was his pet and it was time for him to reward her.

Lenore noticed he was still rubbing her clit and pushing two fingers in and out. As the cool towel helped with the pain she started to feel a more pleasant heat. He continued building momentum while the towel stayed miraculously cool against the burns. She again felt her position, tied and spread, to be arousing. Her success holding out for him, letting him take her to the edge of unconsciousness, becoming his pet, made her feel so good. She had done this for him, she had pleased him, satisfied his need. There was real joy in managing to submit so completely, she was his and it felt so good. Lust coursed through her, sharp darts of desire stabbing down from her stomach. Hastur's other hand touched her breast and she half expected more pain but instead his hand felt slightly cool as he gently twisted her nipple. She felt over-sensitive, like the pain had intensified every touch, every movement. She could feel her orgasm building and urged him not to stop, feeling her whole body pushing upwards as she came, making an incoherent whine. She felt Hastur softly kissing the tears from her face.

Lenore sat dazed for a few seconds and then became aware he was undoing the straps holding her. On being freed she sat up slightly but didn't try to move further for fear of dislodging the cool towel. Hastur stood a little way away looking down at her. In a low voice he said "Don't you want to see the marks? They won't look as bad as they felt". Lenore carefully lifted the towel and was surprised by the small neat burns making a delicate pattern of fingertip marks on her thighs. "See, not so bad. Not too much damage is there?" He asked, almost as if he was trying to persuade himself he hadn't taken it too far. "Hurt, hurt a lot" she answered. "Yeah, burns always do. Put the towel back before they warm up" he advised. She guessed he knew only too well how much burns hurt.

He suggested she stay where she was for a bit and he’d fetched some drinks. He got her brandy and, remembering their half joke, said "good for shock" as he handed it to her. She smiled and took a sip feeling the spirit warming her, her hands were shaking and she realised her whole body was trembling. Hastur looked at her, a soppy smile on his face "you're so good for me, you know that don't you? I do appreciate it". Demons don't do thank yous but this was as close as they got. She smiled back at him saying "remind me to ask for the whip next time" he thought this was very funny and laughed, then said seriously "I will" and laughed again.

Lenore sat for quite a while, the towel across her legs. Eventually Hastur removed it and she saw the neat little burn marks surrounded by a general flush of red, the darker spots raised and swollen, some starting to blister, others with black, cauterised scabs. He offered to heal them but she asked him to wait a little so she could feel the pain again. He allowed her to sit wincing as the burning started again. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists against the pain. She needed to feel it again, remind herself what she'd done for him, allowed him to do to her. She had a real reluctance to lose the proof, have the marks disappear, go back to normal again. Equally it was getting too painful now, she needed it to stop. Not too quickly though, there had to be time for her to adjust.

She gasped for breath and reached for his hand. pressing it against one of the marks she asked him "can you heal them, but not too quickly, need to feel them first" he gave her a dubious look. "It'll hurt pet, better do the whole lot quickly, all in one". She shook her head. "Slowly. Need to feel each one to know they’re mended". "You're weird" he said affectionately, but complied. She started crying noiselessly, tears falling from her eyes but without any sobbing. Once they were all done she wiped away the tears and thanked him, asking for another brandy. After finishing it she said "feel better now".

Lenore stood up and got dressed with Hastur watching. However, the ordeal had clearly taken a toll as she suddenly started crying again, shaking and sobbing this time. Hastur came over hugging her tightly to him. "It's ok pet, don't worry, just a bit of shock, it'll pass, maybe that was a bit too much". She tried to push him off desperately choking off her tears but continuing to sob convulsively. He wouldn't let go, pulling her even closer and whispering into her "no you don't, I got you, hold on to me, it's ok". She gave up and sobbed into him without restraint.

After a couple of minutes the sobs subsided and he allowed her to pull away. She looked up into his concerned face saying "I'm ok, just being silly". He shook his head "it’s not silly, it's natural. I should be more careful, but you're so very, very good, I can't help it. You should say your word if it's getting too much". She looked at him mock-sternly, saying "don't try blaming me demon, you knew exactly what you were doing, you're a cruel, evil sadist and I only put up with you cuz you're so damn sexy" she pouted up at him through the sheen of tears. He grabbed her and kissed her, dissolving into a swarm of maggots that showered down over her then rose up, surrounding her, before coalescing back into his normal shape. He had a huge grin and repeated "cruel, evil sadist" looking about the happiest she'd ever seen him. 

He made sure she had calmed down, wrapping a grubby half-blanket he’d produced from somewhere around her shoulders. Asking one last time if she was sure she was ok he finally left her to her own devices.

Lenore sat thoughtfully for a while after he had gone. He'd stopped when she needed him to, but she'd left it very late. She didn't want to let him down though, give up too early if she didn't have to. He was right, she should be more willing to use the word, but equally he had an obligation too. He needed to make sure she wasn't too badly injured, didn't pass out. Did she trust him, really trust him? Yes, she decided, he'd earned that much.

She was all affection now, feeling warm and content. He'd done that to her, made her feel like this. He'd looked after her, been so nice afterwards. She thought he was so good to her, so kind. Then she remembered how cruel he’d been too, how much he’d enjoyed hurting her, how far he'd been prepared to go. She supposed it was the contrast that attracted her. She sighed deeply, enjoying how he’d made her feel: floaty and happy. Thoughts of him whirled round her head. He was her demon and she was his pet.


	16. Being Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore is working hard trying to make sense of demonic bureaucracy - how exactly does Hell work anyway?
> 
> Hastur arrives with the intention of ‘being nice’, no matter how dull that might be. It works out better than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …..relationship stuff again, with a bit of bureaucracy and a bit of smut

Next morning Lenore pulled the disciplinary and appraisals file over to start re-reading it. The torments visited on poorly performing demons still made her wince but she steeled herself and steadily went through them. There were a couple needing “improvement plans” with notes as to what these should contain, and a few half-scribbled out sheets where first drafts of the plans had been started and abandoned. She thought back to her own time spent in the bank’s back office and started trying to frame the plans into clear objectives. This was more fun than she cared to admit. Feeling sorry for the demons in question she made sure the early stages were easily achievable only ramping them back up to full targets after several months.

She then started on some performance monitoring sheets. The covering forms needed completing but this was mostly basic factual information. This sort of information was Hastur's especial weak spot and she found herself trying to piece together who the various underling demons were based on his own nicknames for them. There was one called “Flash-Bastard” who featured a lot and she realised from the files he was stationed in London. She wondered whether she’d ever seen him, even been tempted by him at some point. She doubted it, he didn’t seem the sort to frequent diplomatic parties in order to talk to the wives. His ‘temptations’ were hard to fit into the prescriptive forms and she was rather dubious of the truth of some of the submissions. He took credit for the invention of Pornhub for example and she was pretty sure that wasn’t of demonic origin. His submissions were full of question marks and criticisms in Hastur’s sloped calligraphy, but it looked like he had been overruled. Red scrawl over his notes confirmed “approved” or even the odd “committee approves commendation”. She wasn’t sure what the ‘committee’ was, but guessed they were in charge from the finality of the comment.

She reflected that the whole Heaven and Hell thing really did seem to be a huge cosmic justice system with the demons prosecuting and Heaven mounting the defence. Except no-one seemed to be able to agree what the crimes were, or how they balanced out. Good deeds on one side and sins and breaches of the commandments on the other. The definition of sin kept changing too and in the early files she’d see Hell mount a robust case to capture a soul for something that in later cases was cited as ‘erroneous translation’ or ‘human distortion’ and thrown out. The verdicts varied depending on how good the prosecution and defence were and what mood the Judge was in on any given day. She was coming round to Hastur’s view that the whole thing was bloody unfair.

There were constant shifts in targets and areas to focus on too. She’d seen edicts from ‘the committee’ instructing temptations to steal cattle, alongside ones to start wars, there was no consistency. Additionally there seemed to be a ‘Dark Council’ who occasionally waded in disrupting everything. Suddenly something that seemed to have worked the same way for hundreds of years was changed unexpectedly. She wasn’t sure whether she should be working to the 1700s standards or the 1900s ones without constant referrals back to long winded guidance documents. It was hard to tell what was a viable case and what wasn’t - she’d found several that looked like potential ‘claw-backs’ but needed to clarify which standards applied before being able to complete the forms. It was giving her a headache, so she left it and went to bed instead.

Next morning she got up to find Hastur in the library looking damp. “Pipes are leaking again” he explained and stood in front of the fire steaming for a bit. The smell was overwhelming and not at all nice and she wished he would take a shower. He clearly picked up on some of what she was thinking looking quizzical and asking “is there something you want pet?” She explained about the shower idea and he wrinkled his nose asking why he’d want to get wet again when he was just drying off. In the end he did allow himself to be led up to the bathroom but wouldn’t countenance getting undressed, instead stepping into the shower fully clothed. She sighed but ran the water anyway, attempting with difficultly to apply shower gel to his shabby coat. He came out even wetter and dripped into a puddle on the floor, but the smell had at least subsided.

She ran the hair dryer pointing it at various bits of him - not his head as he shrieked loudly about it damaging his frog when she tried. He then went back down and stood in front of the fire smelling a little better. Obviously getting fed up of waiting for the fire to finish drying him he started steaming from an internal heat and was soon dry all over. He seemed to have managed to keep his cigarettes dry and lit one with a ball of hell-fire, flicking ash into the fire as he smoked steadily. He wasn’t clean but smelled mostly of the familiar gunpowder, burning plastic and rotting organic matter. She inhaled deeply saying “much better” and he looked at her strangely.

Over breakfast Lenore talked him through the files and Hastur was pleasantly complimentary about her progress. They worked steadily through the morning only taking a quick break for lunch. He liked the performance plans as it would be nice and easy to show the demons had failed. She explained the idea was they would pass, not fail, but Hastur seemed to think the idea of the plans was to ensure Hell kept a designated quota of failing demons. She asked about the overall numbers going up or down, but apparently that was all ‘big picture stuff’ and didn’t concern him. As she was interested he tried to explain the management structure. The Dark Council were in charge and edicts from their Chambers had to be enacted by the committee who met at a separate location called “The Hall of The Great Committee”. In reality it seemed the committee were the source of all the actual rules and made the real decisions, but every now and again someone from the Dark Council would decide to take an interest in something and throw a spanner in the works. Like senior management everywhere they had no idea what actually went on in the organisation, but liked to think they were in charge. When they suddenly came up with a new initiative everyone had to jump to accommodate it, until they lost interest and things could go back to normal. Hastur wouldn’t say anything overt against the Dark Council, but she nonetheless got the impression he didn’t trust them, he muttered about their obsession with ‘infernal reorganisation’ at the expense of the ‘great plan’. He didn't seem particularly interested in the overall strategy for temptations, as far as he was concerned it was all just time filling until Armageddon anyway.

He’d been steadily chain-smoking for most of the morning, but after lunch threw his cigarette end into the fire and stood very close behind her chair leaning in to kiss her. No maggots this time, it was just nice. It then became very nice as he pulled her to her feet and grabbed her waist holding her close against him. He murmured into her ear “not going to hurt you this time pet, you’ve been so good for me I’m going be ‘nice’, reward you”. She felt like she was melting from the inside and nuzzled against his coat getting a faint whiff of lime shower gel together with the usual burning, rotting smell. Scooping her up he carried her upstairs to the bedroom. He started removing her clothes, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, easing it over her shoulders then undoing her bra. He managed the catch with ease and pulled the straps down before taking it fully off. His hands gently massaged her breasts and pinched at her nipples. He bent down to use his tongue and she moaned as he applied some gentle bites. His hands slid down and he undid her jeans. She helped him ease them off, pulling at the sides of her panties he grew out a claw intending to cut the material. She demurred, saying “you can’t keep shredding my knickers” and removed them herself. He then picked her back up again and lay her carefully onto the bed.

Hastur got on the bed next to her and gently pushed himself between her legs so he was lying on top of her looking down. He was thinking back to the 'lust' training he'd done years ago; trying to recall exactly what humans were meant to like. He genuinely wanted her to enjoy this, no pain or suffering and nothing to endure. He preferred the impromptu, almost frantic sessions, where he’d launched himself at her without thinking, scratching, biting, hurting her, making her scream. He was also grateful for the immense high she’d allowed him from using torments on her, whipping and burning, marking her pretty skin, hearing her beg, feeling her submit entirely to the pain, to him. He thought she had responded well to his demonic treatment so far, but she was human so would no doubt prefer him to be more ‘human’ too. It was unfamiliar territory and, although not unpleasant, it was maybe a little dull. 

Many more kisses later she felt his hand reaching down to touch her. He confidently pushed between her lips and circled her clit making her moan and arch her back. Continuing his touches for a couple of minutes he suddenly pulled his hand away and undid his trousers releasing his half erect cock. She half sat so she could reach him and made a few strokes up and down as he closed his eyes enjoying the sensation. She released him and he lined up, entering her slowly, leaning down and kissing her at the same time. He moved to kissing her neck as he went carefully in and out, not too fast.

Lenore found the sensation nice, but only nice and wished he’d go faster. As if hearing her thoughts (which maybe he did), he sped up, thrusting a bit harder. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist to allow for a deeper penetration and he sat up on his knees pulling her up with him. It was an awkward position but felt good as he pushed in and out of her a little faster.

Lying her back down he cautioned himself against going too fast, being too rough. Humans liked it slow and gentle, make it last, take it easy. Not like demons. He leaned in to kiss her again and then moved back down to kiss her neck. He couldn’t help but speed up slightly pushing a little harder with each stroke, but overall he remained unhurried.

He sped up slightly and she wondered if he was going to cum. He was treating her with such delicacy, almost reverence, but she was missing the usual passion. As he continued kissing her neck she suddenly said “can you bite?” and he groaned, his teeth grazing her neck then biting carefully. “Harder” she whispered “so I can feel it” his bites got firmer sending shivers down her body. She was starting to feel his thrusts getting faster, harder, and wanted more. “Hurt me, please” she urged him and she cried out as he really bit her. He eased up, but she cried out again “don't stop, please, make it hurt” and he put the pressure back on at the same time starting to thrust into her more desperately. The pain in her neck was getting severe and she was close to screaming, but it was worth it for the intense ripples of pleasure and heightened sensations it was giving her. She wrapped her legs round his waist, pushing herself hard onto his cock in time with his thrusts, this was so much better than the previous calm gentleness. He came with a groan and fell down onto her.

Pushing up onto his elbows he looked into her eyes “so you don’t like it when I’m too nice then?” he asked smiling. It had ended better than he'd expected. Apparently the 'lust' trainers didn't know everything. This human, at any rate, didn't want him to be all 'sensual' and 'loving', she wanted him to bite. Good. As if hearing his thoughts she answered “I like it when you hurt me, feels good, well good-bad, I like it” she tried to explain. His smile got wider “you are a demon slut aren’t you - nothing gentle for you eh?” Her reply was half whimper “oh yes, your demon slut, always”. Seeming satisfied he sat up and moved to the edge of the bed “come here then” he said patting his lap. She crawled over and he half pulled her across his knees so she was balanced precariously hanging off the end of the bed. 

Before she could fully get her balance he bought his hand down in a hard smack on her arse, followed quickly by a second. She squealed in complaint but he chuckled reminding her “you said you liked this” smacking a third time with more force. He alternated between cheeks holding her onto him so she couldn’t squirm away. His slaps became harder making a loud noise at each contact. Lenore kept wriggling and complaining, loving the way he held her so easily and the way the slaps were really starting to hurt. She nearly fell onto the floor and he shifted his grip, humming disapprovingly and growling sternly “stay still demon slut”. A wave of lust hit her at his words, this was so much better than all that boring gentleness.

Unbeknownst to Hastur he exactly mirrored her thought about this being better. It wasn't as good as real torments he admitted, but still gave him a thrill. Holding her down, feeling her struggle, but at the same time radiate lust, was fun. He was fascinated by her reactions, it was like she knew exactly what to do to please him, squirming and squealing beautifully, almost as if she wanted him to stop, almost. He watched as his slaps left red hand-prints, starting to underlay with the slight purple of real bruises, so pretty. He didn’t want to go too far though, he really did want her to enjoy it. He thought if he kept her happy it increased the chance she would endure proper torments for him, submit to the more extreme end of the spectrum, the things he really got a high from. Although he was increasingly getting into this too, it was her reaction that did it he mused as he whacked down hard and heard her give a half-scream at the contact.

After another couple of smacks he decided that was enough and pushed his hand roughly between her legs. “Nice and wet” he observed pushing a couple of fingers in. After a few strokes he pushed a third finger in shoving in and out hard and quick. She groaned with each push into her. She was still balanced in an undignified position, but this felt really good. He continued for a time then suddenly picked her up, throwing her back onto the bed and demanding “hands and knees pet”. She hurried to comply and he came in close behind her pushing the three fingers back in without waiting for her to fully gain her position and nearly shoved her over. He warned her to stay still again then resumed the rhythm with his fingers. With the advantage of being behind her he could bring his other hand into play and he bought this round to start playing with her clit. “you like this don’t you hmmm, is my demon slut going to cum for me?” he asked. She was a little incoherent murmuring out combinations of ‘demon slut’, ‘yes’ and ‘gonna cum’ before feeling the orgasm overwhelm her.

When she regained a little composure and sat back on the bed it was to see him with a big grin on his face. “You look flushed” he said and she agreed that she probably did. He then said “glad we sorted that out” and, when she looked confused, elaborated “I wasn’t sure whether you wanted me to be more ‘human’ - y'know, gentle and stuff - it’s good that you like the same as me”. She looked a little embarrassed and said “not all humans are gentle you know - spanking isn't unusual, I just happen to like it”. He looked at her again, squinting slightly, then said “but letting me burn you ‘til you beg me to stop isn’t a normal human thing is it?” She was forced to concede it probably couldn’t be called normal, although he might be surprised what some people did to each other. “No I wouldn't" he replied “I wrote the files remember?”

Hastur wanted to carry on ‘being nice', as he put it, so in the end they decided to watch a film instead of doing any more work. Lenore put on (the original) Star Wars trilogy. As they watched the films Hastur jumped between supporting the rebel alliance, feeling that demons should naturally side with rebels against the establishment, and the evil empire because, well, they were evil. He liked the idea of 'the dark side' as being obviously Hellish in origin. He really liked Darth Vader, seeing him as brave, hard-working and an excellent leader in Hell's own style. He said he was a 'role model' and was especially keen on the 'positive portrayal of a disabled character', rubbing his own scarred shoulder as he said it. She wasn't sure where he'd picked those phrases up from, but she thought he had a point, at least from a demonic perspective. He was also said Jabba the Hutt looked like a demon he knew down in the pits. It certainly made her look at the films in a new way.

They shared popcorn and she leaned her head on his chest breathing in his distinctive smell. Almost like a real couple she thought happily. Then he dropped cigarette ash in her hair and accidentally manifested his claws as he jumped up to get an ashtray gouging her arm quite deeply. Yeah, *almost* like a real couple she thought as he healed the scratches and licked blood from his claws. He took his leave when the last film ended and she went to bed, tired but contented.


	17. The Pits (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bit of a chat Hastur has a weird idea for Lenore to visit her late husband in Hell, which results in a trip down to “The Pits” where lost souls are tormented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shortish chapter and really more of a scene-setting exercise for the next bit - with a bit of background thrown in. I did start off with one very long chapter and split it, still not sure if that was the right thing to do so I’m posting both together as a compromise!

A few days later Lenore was working diligently through the files when Hastur appeared in the library and asked for a drink. She was about to tell him to help himself when she remembered provision of drinks was in her contract - so she asked him what he wanted. Instead of brandy or port he asked for ‘that fizzy stuff they had at the buffet’. She went to fetch a bottle of champagne. The cork made a satisfying pop and she poured two flutes of champagne. Hastur drank and belched smiling proudly. He asked why she had different shaped glasses for different drinks. The main reason was that these were her deceased husband’s glasses and, as she was currently living in his former London pied-a-terre, she was using them out of habit. She told him this, but he persisted, asking why anyone had different glasses even if they weren’t hers. She gave him a vague explanation about different glasses enhancing the taste of different drinks - like the champagne flutes helped concentrate the bubbles and aroma and the brandy snifters helped let the flavour out - but it wasn’t really her speciality. As far as she was concerned it all boiled down to etiquette and tradition really, things hard-wired into her after years of playing hostess.

The talk about her late husband’s glasses led her to ask about him. Hastur sniffed saying he’d not really taken an interest. He used to run shifts down in the pits but didn’t get enough time even to visit these days. He said he missed the screaming. Lenore asked if that’s why he liked making her scream and he was horrified. “You’re nothing to do with work, it’s totally different, I like you and you let me to do stuff, ask me, say 'please' even. You're pretty and so good; warm and wet and mine by choice. Souls are just work, they don’t react the same as you. They're floaty and cold, even when you whack the corporation generator on they're not really there”. The phrase 'corporation generator' clearly confused her and she didn't understand his attempt to explain, so he offered to show her. “I’ll take you down to see your late husband if you like. He did lots of sins, broke loads of commandments and any mitigation from good deeds was wiped out by the contract. He’s probably having really a hard time of it”.

Lenore asked whether it was a good idea - wouldn’t it be a bit weird bringing the guy’s widow down to see him? Hastur grinned wickedly “I’ll tell him I’m banging you and you're really hot and always wet for me, that should annoy him”. She wanted to know why he thought it would annoy him given the fact Lord C didn’t even care about her. Hastur replied that the late Lord C had said he ‘couldn’t really complain’ about the wife they’d thrown into the deal but she was ‘a bit dull’ and ‘doesn’t really like sex’. To his surprise Lenore was really upset by this saying “it’s bad enough the whole marriage was a con, set up by a demon who didn’t give a shit, but to find out he thought I was dull - and of course I didn’t like sex with him it was dull! It’s stupid. I’m stupid. How could I even get into that position?" She then demanded to know "what did you do to get me to marry him?” Hastur was a bit lost with the human emotions side, but he knew his work. “Didn’t do anything, you’d probably have married him anyway - he was a ‘good prospect’ so your family were all set on it, you were bored at home, looking for a way out, all he lacked was the confidence to ask you - well I give it ‘im” he finished up ungrammatically. For some reason this seemed to mollify Lenore and she agreed to go check on him with Hastur.

He decided he'd take charge of her clothes for the visit. His approach was to pull virtually everything out of her wardrobe and dump it on the floor. He then started picking through, chucking the things he liked onto the bed and everything else back onto the floor. The problem with this was that his taste didn't lend itself to putting together a whole outfit, or at least not an outfit you'd want to wear outside of the bedroom. He mainly liked underwear, especially anything lacy or see through. He got her to demonstrate how stockings and suspenders worked and decided he liked them, a lot. "You and everyone else" she scoffed. Eventually she managed to pull together an outfit that wasn't too obscene. It was still fairly racy - the skirt was meant to be an over-skirt for another outfit, it was short enough at the front that you could see the stocking tops but at the back it had an almost-bustle of lace falls, she had a under-bust corset and a lace fronted low cut blouse that didn't leave much to the imagination.

Lenore felt like she looked like a Victorian prostitute, but clearly this was what Hastur liked. He grinned at her murmuring “pretty pet” and she had to keep restraining him from groping her or sticking his hand up her skirt. His attentions made her feel very sexy, even if it wasn't her usual attire. She took the blessed knife making Hastur a bit jittery, but she insisted. She also put a jacket on. He wouldn't let her do it up though. He seemed hypnotised by her cleavage and didn't want her to cover up. She finished up with sensible, waterproof boots, remembering Hell's propensity for leaks. He took her hand and things got wobbly around her, then snapped back into focus. They were in one of Hell's dingy corridors, a neon strip light flickering uncertainty. He switched his grip to her wrist holding tightly - clearly you didn't hold hands in Hell - and off they went.

The halls were bustling, well there were a lot of demons milling around anyway. They seemed keen to keep out of Hastur's way, but she got a few wary looks too. She pushed her jacket back so the glint of the knife handle was on display. No harm in advertising. As they presumably got nearer the pits it got darker and warmer. The demons they saw tended to be the ones hit hardest by the fall, weird deformities and animalistic characteristics were the order of the day. They also started hearing faint screams and shouts together with some unpleasant sounding mechanical noises. Hastur exchanged nods with several of the demons they passed, he even shook the tentacle of one, pushing her round for it's inspection. He explained to it that the 'pretty human' was 'his assistant' (winking broadly) and amazing at 'paperwork' (winking again). He was clearly enjoying himself. He confirmed this by breathing in deeply and telling her "it's great to get down here again, everything is so much simpler in the pits".

They arrived at a door with a clipboard hanging from a nail outside and a number ‘17’ with some strange sigils next to it. He drew back a sliding viewing window and squinted in. Motioning her to look too she saw a facsimile of her late husband inside. He was fuzzy round the edges and slightly translucent, he was also curled into a tight ball and making a high pitched, keening wail. Hastur banged on the door and he curled tighter increasing the volume of his whining. Hastur slammed the viewing window shut and looked round the hallway yelling "JP: keys for 17". A shuffling noise preceded the appearance of a small figure of fantastic fatness. It was larger round than it was tall and seemed delighted to see Hastur. They exchanged unpleasantries and Hastur disappointed him by claiming ownership of her. The fat demon shook its head disapprovingly. Hastur explained she was here voluntary and under his protection. The demon took some persuading that anyone would go to the pits with Hastur voluntarily, but she agreed it was true. He looked at her as if she had three heads, which maybe some denizens of the pits did have, then handed over the keys.

Hastur opened the door with a flourish and a bang. "Visitor for you 17" he shouted commenting to her in an aside "in the pits trying to remember names is too much hassle for us, we just use numbers down here". She noted the use of 'us' and 'we', Hastur clearly felt he belonged in the pits. He pushed her into the cell following after her, the former Lord Carradine looked round. He did a double-take at her but then just curled back into a ball rocking slightly. Hastur swung a vicious looking kick which went straight through the prone figure. He stuck his head round the door "JP turn the bloody corporation generator on will ya?" A faint hum, then he kicked again this time making contact with solid flesh. Lord C, now just plain 17, flung himself into the far corner away from Hastur's boot. She finally understood what a ‘corporation generator’ was.

17 looked wildly from Hastur to Lenore and started laughing. "He got you too, you dumb bitch, what'd you get? Should've known you'd be stupid enough to fall for it". Hastur looked shocked. Lenore took his arm and turning to him with a evil grin and said "Your Disgrace" at which she bowed "can I respectfully request you kick 17 in the head for me?" She leant in to kiss him deeply, finally pulling back breathless. Hastur was delighted with the use of the correct address, the request and the kiss. He booted 17 hard in the head laughing as he shouted out in pain. The demon waited until he'd got 17's attention again before groping Lenore lavishly. He ended up with his hand well up her skirt then kissed her. Lenore played up grabbing him in for the kiss and trying to wrap one leg around him. "She's my pet now" he leered "a great fuck, and she really knows how to suck my cock don't you pet?" Lenore disapproved of his crudity, but her erstwhile husband's face made it worth it. That’d teach him for saying she was ‘dull’. She replied "you've got a lovely cock demon, so tasty" turning to 17 she confided "he's given me more orgasms in the last few weeks than I had the whole time we were married."

This was clearly too much for 17 to process and he started laughing hysterically while banging his head against the wall. Hastur kicked him again but in a half-hearted way. It was no fun when they were this far gone. He'd barely reacted to the kick. Disgusted he pulled Lenore out into the hall calling to 'JP' to lock up. He suggested they take a proper look round.


	18. The Pits (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well really, what did you expect would happen once Hastur got Lenore down to the Pits? They are full of dedicated ‘torments’ rooms and Hastur does like hurting people after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the content of this chapter shouldn’t come as a surprise - it does lead on to the start of an actual plot (outside of new relationships) though

There were no surprises in the pits. Cells were bare, halls were dark, a pervasive feeling of misery and despair had seeped into the walls. Rooms set aside for torments had ominous cases of instruments against the walls and chairs or tables with straps attached. A few rooms were occupied and Hastur peered in, interested in proceedings, Lenore declined his offer to see for herself. He seemed to know every one of the demons they met and to garner a fair amount of respect, not to say affection. He was shown a newly refurbished torments room and urged to take his time looking round. "I'll leave you with the key Hast, drop it off when you're finished" winked the demon, who sprouted three misshapen horns from his bald head and walked in a weirdly sideways manner.

Hastur looked at her a little embarrassed. "I think Charu thinks, well you know". She clearly didn't know so he continued "thinks I've dragged you down here to do stuff" he shuffled his feet then continued "It is a lovely torments room. Beautiful equipment, look at the straps on that" he indicated a high backed piece of furniture "bet it's really comfortable". She felt he was trying to distract her. He'd opened up one of the cabinets and was picking up various whips testing the weight. In a mood to indulge him she went over to have a look. "Are these like the one you used on me?" She asked. Apparently there were lots of different types of whip. Hastur started talking technically and she was lost. She admitted not understanding and he said he'd show her.

This sequence of events explains why she ended up standing, strapped to the high back of the frame, while Hastur 'demonstrated' different whips. He had shown her a selection talking happily about the different ‘falls’, braiding, tails, whether they’d break the skin and which would hurt most. He had gently guided her wrists and ankles into the cuffs, talking about the suppleness of the leather and how easily the buckles did up. Then he had done his hand waving thing so she was naked apart from the stockings and suspenders he was so keen on. He stroked her gently saying in a low, lust-filled, voice "gonna hurt you pet, try to concentrate and I'll explain what I'm doing".

Hastur was enjoying himself. He adored the pits, it felt like home to him. He'd started out down here, learned the torments, worked his way up the ranks until he’d been promoted up to the working floors. It was good to get back down here. He had tried to keep his hand in, but workloads over the last millennia had taken him further and further away. Even when he had the chance to take failing demons down for 'performance appraisals' he didn't feel like he could really relax, too short a time-frame and too prescriptive on what torments were suitable. Unlike certain other demons he didn't use the pits for recreational reasons. There were some demons who owed him favours and he could demand they submit to torments, but he didn't feel he'd enjoy it any more than just hurting them for work. He could hurt humans whenever and wherever he wanted to, so why go to all the trouble of kidnapping them down to the pits? Lenore was, as he had tired to explain to Ligur, different. For the first time he actually wanted to use the facilities for something other than work.

He'd meant what he'd said about the equipment too, it looked enticing. There were so many options, so many different things he’d like to try. He had borrowed a whip to use on her, then miracled up a torments chair modelled on the pit design, and had been considering what else he could use. Now he had a full range of equipment ready to play with. He wanted to explore a range. Whips were a favourite of his anyway. He found it easier to stay in control with them than with the more 'hands on' stuff and he was justifiably proud of his skill in using them. He decided to start with an easier one, show her that it didn't have to be agonizing every time. He also wanted to pace himself, prolong the session by not going for the most painful ones first. He would work up to them. Half the fun was in the planning and anticipation.

The first blow stung and she shouted in pain. It didn’t hurt as much as last time though. Hastur showed her what he'd used talking about the length and design. He'd then shown her another and stepped back. A crack and she was sobbing against the supports, pulling in vain against the (lovely supple) leather cuffs. "That hurt more didn't it pet?" He asked and she had to agree. He shushed her, "s'ok pet, there's another four I want to try - be good for me". 

He was having a hard time resisting some of the nastier looking scourges. He wasn't sure she would cope, there were protective hexes to stop unconsciousness, but she could stop him with one word. He'd limited himself to just four more so needed to choose carefully. If only she could hold out for him. He really wanted to ramp it up now. Hear her scream for him.

The next did make her scream and her legs almost gave out, the cuffs round her hands holding her weight. She was more scared now than when he'd hurt her at her house. She had an inkling what the pain was like, didn’t know what was coming next and the atmosphere of the pits was menacing. Thousands of years of fear and suffering seemed to have left their mark. It was frightening and she really needed him close, hearing his voice, feeling him kissing her, somehow made the pain bearable.

As if sensing her need he was back at her ear again "s'ok pet, you're doing really well, not broken the skin yet, you'll be ok, can you be good for me?" She was crying but managed to gulp out her agreement. The way she forced herself to agree through her tears was just wonderful he thought. He looked at the selection again. He’d said her skin wasn’t broken yet and that made him want to make her bleed. He chose one he knew would cut, cause more damage, make her bleed for him.

He stood back and she heard him over at the cabinet again. Before she realised he'd done it there was a crack and pain shot down from her shoulder to her waist. She screamed with the pain and was sure the lash had cut into her, could almost feel the blood running down her back.

He hastened to calm and reassure her, coax her to endure more for him. "You're ok pet, that one was quite nasty, it will get worse, but I know you can do it, be good for me" he kissed her and she revelled in the soft contact. Despite the pain she felt an elation at offering herself up to him like this. She knew how much he enjoyed it and wanted him to be happy, pleased by her. She also craved the post-pain euphoria and the way it made her pleasure intensify.

Hastur looked at the welts on her back. The last had cut quite deeply and was oozing blood, yet she hadn’t stopped him. He knew she was scared, knew she needed more encouragement down here, but the marks were so pretty and she’d agreed to this. A thrill ran down him and he felt the edge of euphoria just from the way she surrendered to him, responded to his soft words and kisses, almost looking forward to the next one. She was trying so hard to be ‘good’ for him simply because he’d asked her to, because he needed it, because she wanted to be his. The power he held was tremendous and he wanted to do more, really hurt her. He was starting to get the rush and was dangerously close to pushing too far. He only had two left and wanted so much to hear her screams he couldn’t resist one of the nastier ones this time.

She saw flashes in front of her eyes and the pain seemed to explode in her head before she felt it along her back. She screamed and didn't stop, pulling and twisting but unable to free herself. She heard his voice growling with barely suppressed lust only then realising he was standing up close to her "good pet, I should have warned you about that one, multiple tails, really painful, you did so well". She regained her voice enough to sob out "no, stop it, please, please, make it stop". He stroked her hair away from her face brushing away the tears running down her cheek.

He was desperate for her permission to carry on. She hadn't said the word yet, but she'd started begging for it to stop so he knew she was close. He could sense her heightened fear levels and was concerned about upsetting the equilibrium. He decided on a less painful one to finish with. He wanted her explicit consent, wanted her to ask for this last one. He composed himself, using a gentle, persuasive tone. "My brave pet, you're so good, you can be good for one more can't you, just one? It won't be a bad one, promise. Say 'please' for me". She had screwed her eyes tight shut was shaking her head, but then took a deep breath and whispered "please" so quietly he could barely hear it. He felt a wave of desire wash over him, something about that word, hearing her say it, offer herself like that, it was like a drug. She screamed as the last blow fell across already damaged skin, pulling against the restraints and shouting at him to stop, gasping out "no, no more, deal".

His face was close to her saying "s'ok all done now pet, don't need your word I've finished". He sounded so happy, but everything hurt and she couldn't think. When he tried to show her the last whip she screwed up her eyes again repeating 'no' until he took it away. The pain seemed to be burrowing into her back and up into her brain and she was still sobbing. He made no movement to undo the straps, but she felt his hand sliding up and down the inside of her thigh. He spoke to her softly with terms of endearment and praise, brushing her cheek with one hand while continuing the rubbing motion up and down her thigh.

After a while the sharp edges of the pain had receded a little. Her back still really hurt but his stroking was beginning to distract her. His low gravelly voice crooning in her ear was almost hypnotic. She had stopped sobbing and started making quiet moans as his hand trailed up and down always just short of her groin. "touch me, please" she whispered. He was clearly pleased, but said "not yet pet".

Hastur wanted more. He felt he’d wasted his last go, not hurt her as much as he wanted to, as much as he needed to. It wasn’t enough, he craved more, another go, another rush. Demons are naturally evil, cruel and sadistic and he was a true demon: of course he wanted to continue beyond her stopping point. He struggled to justify it, she’d said ‘deal’ but that was earlier, maybe she’d be ok now. He knew exactly which one he was going to use, knew how much it would hurt, but he wanted it so badly. He needed her agreement though. He decided he'd leave the decision to her, a free choice, he wouldn’t cajole her, just ask.

He whispered quietly in her ear "I want to do one last one. You don't have to agree, just say no if you want pet". He felt her uncertainty and something near panic washing over her. He deliberately didn’t say anything further, just waited to see what would happen, would she allow this? He felt her forcing herself to agree despite the fear. She spoke quietly "one more is ok". The smell of blood, the taste of her fear and pain together with her lust and capitulation made him jubilant. Pulling back immediately he picked up the scourge, stroking the handle lovingly, he knew exactly how bad it would be. He had used it on demons before, never on a human though. He knew he could only get away with it now because the hexes would stop her passing out. He had thrills running through him from the anticipation and his hand shook slightly. He took a step back, getting the measure of the swing. Closing his eyes and taking a breath in he moved his arm back, poised ready, enjoying the moment. Opening his eyes, he bought his arm round and flicked his wrist watching as the scourge tore into her.

She felt something crash into on her with tremendous force. She couldn't comprehend what had happened it hurt so much. After the first lightening flashes of pain she felt sick and dizzy, the world swimming out of focus, but something was pulling her back. She had started screaming in short bursts between her desperate gasps for breath. Hastur tried to shush her but she shouted back angrily "don't touch me, deal, don't touch, leave me alone". A few seconds later she sobbed "no, don't leave me, help please, it hurts".

Hastur stood next to her, tilting her face towards him so he could look directly into her eyes. "You're ok, it's ok, there's hexes here to stop you passing out, you'll be ok, just focus on me pet". She tried to focus on him but the world was still swimming and her whole body hurt. Her legs were too weak to hold her and the cuffs hurt her wrists as they took her weight. He started stroking her inner thigh again. "It's all over now pet, you did so well, you're so good for me". She was groggy and in pain but she could feel desire growing with each stroke up her thigh. She sobbed out "fuck me Hastur, want to feel you".

He was surprised but very eager to please her. Fiddling with the frame he carefully lowered the top section so she was bent over. She was still his pet, even after what he'd just done, still wanted him. He was already hard as he moved round behind her, the ecstasy from hurting her still flooding his senses. Her desire for him was only adding to the rush he was already feeling, he’d done this to her, made her want this: his pet, his plaything, so good.

She felt his hand rubbing her gently. "Just fuck me. Now. Need you" she almost shouted. He growled at her and she felt his cock nudging in. She was still in pain and very tight and he entered her cautiously, pulling out a little before pushing back in. He made a few careful strokes in and out, but she instructed him again "more, fuck me properly". Hastur thrust hard and she shouted "yes" so he carried on at a hard, rough pace.

Lenore couldn’t explain the intense wave of lust that had suddenly overcome her. The pain was still raw, her back burning, her head spinning, but she needed him urgently. Maybe it was as a distraction from the pain, maybe to confirm his arousal at what she’d let him do, that didn’t really explain the desperation of it though. She had an immediate need that had to be satisfied, wanted him so much it was painful. Hastur didn’t seem to mind, was there for her, would ensure she was fulfilled. She felt grateful to him. He was so good to her.

He wasn't going to last long like this, he was so aroused from hurting her and she was so wonderfully tight. It felt almost too good. He looked at the wounds on her back, so pretty he thought. He couldn't help himself and reached a hand out touching the nearest, eliciting a loud shout of pain from Lenore. She must have tensed herself at the pain because Hastur felt her tighten around him and he came, shouting hoarsely.

It was at this exact moment that the door to the room flew open. "Duke Hastur what the unholy fuck do you think you're doing?" Lenore didn't recognise the voice and didn't follow what happened next. All she knew was that the pain stopped abruptly and the straps started undoing themselves. She realised she couldn't stand unaided but managed to push herself upright and turn slightly. Everything was still swimming a little and she felt hands grabbing her and hauling her round to sit on a chair, then helping her on with her clothes. She couldn't focus and noticed at some point she'd started giggling and hiccuping. She tried shaking her head to clear the fuzz with limited success. Eventually she felt herself returning to the here and now, then it was like a bubble burst and she was back in the room.

The demon Charu stood by her side cringing awkwardly while Hastur was being taken to task by an unknown demon. Apparently all demons, especially senior ones, should know the rules about use of the pits. Torment rooms were for work only and strictly not recreational facilities. The demon seemed familiar with their contract saying the human had specified no loss of consciousness so use of the pits' protective hexes to get round it could be claimed as a breach. Finally they did not believe anyone would agree to let him beat them not-quite-but-should-be unconscious anyway.

Lenore was floating high on the endorphins and adrenaline, the world seemed sharper, clearer, somehow more real that it had been before. She took a deep breath trying to steady her voice, then said "I gave consent - explicitly in fact - and the contract doesn't exclude hexes. As for use of the pits, I'm sorry we got carried away, but it is work related. I'm rewriting performance plans and as they're mostly discussed down here it was relevant for work". Her words tumbled out a little too quickly, but she was glad to note she was coherent. All three demons turned to stare at her. "Work related" said the angry demon disbelievingly. Lenore took her to be a manager and said "yes - work related" firmly. She was feeling more confident and less floaty now so conceded in a conspiratorial voice "might've got a little carried away, but this new equipment is gorgeous, irresistible really, couldn't help wanting to try. Won't happen again". The formerly angry demon preened at the praise of her new equipment then looked confused. Lenore kept her eyes on her, a big smile on her face and murmured "lovely selection of whips". The demon muttered something about it all being above her pay grade anyway and shambled off.

Hastur waited until he adjudged the manager demon was safely out of earshot before laughing. Charu flinched at the sound and half hid himself behind Lenore. She put an arm round him and thanked him politely for helping her dress, much to his apparent discomfort. Hastur's laughing subsided enough for her to ask who'd healed her. "That was Balam, she's my supervisor" confided Charu. "Hastur, I want a complaint put in about her, messing with our contract, you're the one meant to be healing me not her". Charu looked terrified and even Hastur was a little concerned. She laughed at their serious faces, verging on hysteria, but managed to pull herself back to say "well no harm done I guess. Harm undone in fact" and laughed again. They nervously joined in with her laughter. Pulling herself together she managed to curtail what could easily have become hysterics to say "I think we all need a drink".

Lenore had envisaged her and Hastur going back to hers, but evidently Charu felt he was included and offered to get the round in. She collected her knife, finding he’d left it in the corner not wanting to touch it, and managed to attach it to her belt despite the trembling in her hands. They then followed Charu as he walked, crab-like, through the hot, dark corridors of the pits. He took them to a relatively cosy looking room with leaky beanbags and some low sofas with tufts of escaping stuffing, unpleasant looking stains and arms shiny from much use. There was an unpleasant smell and steam rose from pipes at the back. The few demons already in the room turned as they entered. Hastur waved happily and told Lenore it was the 'club room' one of the demons near the back said "and it's members only" looking pointedly at Lenore.

Charu looked flustered but said "she was scourged in the pits voluntarily and by Hastur too. He even used the really nasty one with all them tails and the boned tips. She should be a member". Lenore looked to Hastur, feeling upset and tearful after the ordeal, and said "maybe we should just leave". He was obviously annoyed and said to the other demon "it's true, been scourged in the pits. She should be a member". The unfriendly demon turned to Lenore "you let him do it? No coercion?" He asked and Lenore mumbled, feeling confused, "yeah, s'not too bad, better than the burns anyway". At this all the demons looked at her, some then turned warily to Hastur who gave a slight nod. They went into a huddle hissing and whispering. The outspoken demon, who had hair down his back like a mane, bright splashes of blue on one side of his body and only one eye somewhere near the centre of his head, said "you can be a member, but only cuz it was Hastur done it. Wouldn't believe it otherwise, but he doesn't go soft".

Charu was fiddling around at a cabinet near the back and held his hand out to Lenore offering her something. It was a small disc with embossed symbols and a hole in the middle. The other demons shyly showed her their own discs and the half blue one explained "it's to prove you done it - willingly that is, don't count if it's disciplinary". She looked at Hastur who flashed his disc briefly before burying it back in a pocket looking embarrassed. Blue explained "It's like an initiation, proves you're committed. See, no-one likes us down in the pits so we gotta keep together, protect against revenge attacks, so Hastur set up the club". Lenore was very surprised, thinking back to Hastur's description of working conditions: 'no unions' eh? She also felt a little like an imposter, she thought she knew Hastur hadn’t gone as far with her as he would with a demon. Was it cheating to let her join? Hastur didn’t seem to have any doubts and she remembered the look they’d all given her when she mentioned burns, so maybe it was ok.

The awkwardness gone, blue got a couple of bottles of slightly cloudy liquid out from the cabinet and some chipped mugs. "No fancy cocktails down here" he said defensively and handed Lenore and Hastur half full mugs. She sniffed at it - it smelled of rotting vegetables "is it ok for humans to drink?" She asked nervously. "Should be" said blue "came from you lot, called poteen". She drank. It wasn't a terribly unpleasant taste and didn't seem too alcoholic, although she knew poteen was usually quite potent so took small sips. Hastur downed his in one and held the mug out for more. She wanted to stop him, remembering him passing out after the party and really not wanting to spend a night in the pits, even having being made a 'member'. He winked at her, saying they'd only stay for a couple as he lit up the inevitable cigarette.

Conversation flowed more naturally once they'd all had a drink or two. Blue's name was Brontes. He was a long time worker of the pits who decried the new personnel, "not like it used to be Hastur, they're using us as a dumping ground for failing demons now, no pride in the work". Charu was telling a grey coloured demon with thin wispy tentacles, who seemed to be called Kevin, about Lenore in the pits "proper screaming, but then says 'one more is ok' and old Hast gets out the bone scourge". Obviously he had been making use of the viewing window. "Shoulda heard her, and the marks were terrible". Lenore interrupted before he could go on to subsequent events, saying tetchily "never got to see the marks did I? Somebody healed it too quick" adding wistfully "I'd have liked to have seen them". The other demons seemed to understand murmuring sympathetically. Charu piped up saying "it was Balam, probably scared stiff of what Nergal would do to her". They all muttered their disapproval.

Hastur asked "Isn't Nergal ‘Loyalty and Justice’? Pits shouldn't come under his jurisdiction". The collected demons looked shifty before Brontes spoke up "do now and doesn't he just hate us. Seems to think just cuz we're pit demons we should get torments virtually every week. Even if we ain't done nuffin". He repeated his gripe from earlier "s'not like it used to be". One of the smaller demons seemed a bit tipsy and looked adoringly up at Hastur "we miss you. Mean, I know promotion is good n'all, but s'not the same. You was professional, no-one got tormented unless they deserved it, it was fair" she finished up with a hiccup. Hastur looked aghast "undeserved torments - why?", "Well, 'parently it's so we don't get 'ideas above our station', or something" said Charu slightly uncertainly. Hastur growled angrily "we'll see about that" he was immediately enjoined by the demon pack not to cause trouble as it would only make it worse for them. 


	19. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leading on directly from the previous chapter. Hastur has an idea, it would be against the contract, but that doesn’t seem to bother Lenore - it might bother Ligur though. Oh yeah, that means Ligur comes back into the story at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the last two ‘linked’ chapters this twins with the next chapter, but I’m posting them separately this time. Events are running into each other somewhat at this point so it’s hard for me to separate them out into chapters - there will be quite a lot more of this as an actual plot develops. I’ve not done much writing outside of short stories before so am finding it hard to define what should be a chapter on it’s own and what should go together…apologies if it’s not working for you

Lenore could feel the concentrated anger coming off Hastur like waves of heat from a fire. They were stomping back up to find ‘somewhere with a signal' so they could get back up to earth. Apparently the pits didn't have a clear line up to earth and you couldn't get up without wandering around until there was a ‘decent signal'. Like mobile phones she thought. They went up, out from the pits, through various halls that progressively got lighter and cooler until they reached the upper halls where they’d come in. A demon looking suspiciously like Eric was ever so slightly in the way and Hastur shoved him hard, barely watching as he disintegrated in a shower of sparks.

Hastur was talking to himself and getting louder. "Bastards, whole bunch of 'em, bloody poncey aresholes looking down on the pits. Bastards. We're the ones doing the dirty work, not like them, all hoity toity swanning about up there with nice little temptations and they treat us like scum. Bastards". He continued in much the same manner until they reached a seemingly undifferentiated bit of hallway. He grabbed her wrist hard enough to really hurt and they were emerging from the grassy area out the front of her house. 

She shook wet clods of earth from her hair and shoulders. Hastur was so angry he seemed oblivious. They went indoors where he continued his rant through the hall and into the drawing room. Throwing himself violently at one of the sofas he concluded "they keep it up they'll have another mutiny on their hands. If Brontes don't start it I will". An angry demon is a fairly intimidating thing, but she felt she had to interject. "But you don't work in the pits any more do you?" That bought him up sharply. He stared at her, then said slowly "no, they got me out of the way first dint they? Few thousand years back 'oh Hastur, you done so well, we could really benefit from your experience up on the working floors' reckon it was bollocks just to get me outta the way so they could get back at the pit demons".

Lenore was a little lost with Hell's politics so asked why they'd want to do that. "Cuz they hate the pits, and the pit demons. We're ugly you see, inside and out. Everyone can tell we've fallen and fallen hard. Some of them in the upper halls like to pretend they're still like angels, just with a 'difference of opinion', but we remind them they're not, so they all hate us". Sounded a lot like an inferiority complex to Lenore. She wasn't sure what to say. He continued "upper halls aren't too bad see? Only a few leaks, bit of space to move around, decent bars, time up on earth if you want. Pits is different. We're jammed in anyhow, no rooms to relax in, no bars, no trips up to earth, hardly any trips even to the upper halls. Surrounded by souls in torment, either that or other demons needing torments, no relief. That's the real Hell, not like them posh buggers up in the halls, reckon they'd even give up on Armageddon given half a chance. They've forgotten what Hell is really like".

He then surprised her by smiling. "Bet you loved the pits pet, proper demonic stuff, Charu with his horns and dodgy leg, Brontes with one eye and all over blue mould" Lenore considered. "It was a nice shade of blue" she confirmed, going on "set off the colour of his eye, and Kevin looked pretty normal - used to be someone looked like him in the Slovenian embassy. Charu's horns were nice too: pretty" she said, deliberately using Hastur’s favourite descriptor.

Hastur laughed, a dirty, delighted cackle. "Have to watch you, you're a proper little demon slut, be shagging half the pits if I let you". Lenore turned red spluttering "not what I meant. I wouldn't" then adding sulkily "I'd never shag anyone called Kevin anyway". Hastur almost looked like he'd considered apologising, but instead just pulled her onto his lap for a kiss. "I know pet, s'ok, I wouldn't share you with other demons, apart from Ligur and that’s different" not sure why it was different, but not caring particularly either, she kissed him back.  
  
In a complete change of subject he asked "are you ok though?" "Why shouldn't I be?" She asked confused. "Well, it all went a bit weird down there, I pushed it a bit far, then we get interrupted, next thing you're a signed up member of the club. I couldn't give you much attention with the other demons around. Wanna check you're ok". She considered. "It was a bit weird, but I’m mainly pissed off that demon healed me without permission". Hastur said eagerly "get her punished for you, no problem", she shook her head "wouldn't be fair, she was only protecting herself. If this Nergal is as bad as they say I don't blame her". He seemed unsure "but if you're pissed off then someone should suffer, can't have demons upsetting my pet without consequences". "Why don't you just have a word. Tell her to back off" he cheered up considerably. His idea of having 'a word' apparently involved hot irons, but at least it would be him doing it. Lenore found herself thinking 'even if Hastur is cruel and sadistic at least he's fair'. Although, she reflected, that probably wasn't much comfort for those being tormented.

He was quiet for a long while then said "Can I ask you something pet?" Silly question, she thought, he was asking her something already, but his tone was serious so she just said "yes". He shuffled a little, refusing to make eye contact then said "can I do something to you?" She was mystified "you do plenty to me already beautiful". He squinted and said "s'different. I mean not in the contract, like against the contract". She considered "depends what it is - specific terms can be waived if I agree, but I'm not agreeing anything without knowing exactly what you're planning". He looked up at her saying "it'll hurt, and it'll have to heal on it's own, take weeks. That's the thing: no damage repair, it'll stay". She was baffled "you'll have to tell me more than that". 

His next move surprised her. He rolled up his sleeve on the unscarred side. On the inside of his wrist was a symbol in a light brown colour with raised edges. It was simple in line and seemed to roughly form the shape of a frog. "It's me" he said, "my animal, y'know, means 'me', no-one else has the same. Wanna mark you with it too, show you're mine". She thought it sounded sweet, no-one else had it apart from him and, if he got his way, her too. It would be permanent too, proof he wanted her, proof she was his.

She had been staring at the mark on his wrist for a while, gently running her fingers over the raised edges. It wasn't large or conspicuous and the short sweeps of the outline had an elegance about them. She really liked it, and liked the idea of it being a thing they both had. She didn't agree immediately though, asking about the process instead. He seemed unwilling to elaborate beyond it being 'like burns' of which she'd just had a bad experience and wasn't too keen to have another. He said by way of comfort "they done it to me and I'm ok" privately she thought Hastur was quite far from 'ok' but didn't say so, instead asking if it'd hurt for weeks non-stop. "No, not really, well a bit. Mainly it'll itch when it's healing and I might have to go over it a few times, make sure the lines are even. Nothing too bad". At the sight of his eager face she felt her heart melt. She said she'd do it. "Right, I'll fetch Ligur" was his next, baffling comment. He shrugged saying "there's a ritual to this and you need two to do it, gotta make sure we get the incantations right".

He wasn't gone long, and soon he and Ligur were arguing in her drawing room. Ligur was adamant that you couldn't use hell-fire on humans. Hastur told him he already had. Ligur insisted this was different. Hastur said it wasn't - he'd be burning her a lot less in fact. Ligur cocked an eyebrow at Lenore saying "you shouldn't trust Hastur with fire, he's got a thing about it, dangerous y'know and painful, he might really hurt you" she laughed "he's already really hurt me, that's kinda the point. As for 'dangerous' well, he's a sodding demon, it's why I got a contract". He looked at her strangely saying "yeah, cuz demons would never break a deal". Hmmm touché.

She was prevented from answering by Hastur who suddenly wailed out "she's mine, she's the only thing I ever had all to myself, she's so pretty and I want her marked, make her like me, make her spoiled so she has to stay with me". He looked tearful and dangerous at the same time. Ligur was startled. Hastur had started giving out a faint glow and was looking more and more like he might set fire to the room. Lenore grabbed hold of him and pulled him to her. "I'm not going anywhere. It's ok beautiful, deep breaths, calm down, you're ok". She glared at Ligur who stalked out into the hall.

A few seconds later she joined him. He looked at her and said "You shouldn't let him do this. It's not necessary. Hastur is, um, 'volatile' sometimes, he'll get over it". She glared angrily "thought you two were close, friends, or whatever. I'd do almost anything for him and all he's asking for is a little mark, why are you trying to stop this?" His bluster about the damage from hell-fire and it not being right for humans didn't convince her "you don't care about me, why should you, what's behind this?" The answer was simple, but Ligur mumbled it out reluctantly "it's cuz you're human. You lot don't understand demons. He needs insulating, I promised Beelzebub". Lenore smiled at him "Beelzebub got me to promise I'd look after him too. Besides, at this stage, I reckon a bit of scarring isn't going to change much, too late for that".

Ligur sighed, she was right, that was the annoying thing. Hastur had told him his plans for her and he'd just assumed she'd stop him and he'd get bored. He hadn't been paying enough attention to Hastur and now this obsession was threatening to get out of hand. Marking her up like a demon for badness sake! The only bright side was that she seemed even deeper into it than he was. If he tried to stick it out Hastur would be annoyed and he didn't want him pushing him away just when things were getting serious. Plus she was right about it being too late to make a difference to Hastur. Might make a difference to her, but she was right about that too: he didn't care about her. He rolled his eyes and grumbled agreement, muttering a final warning "dunno what Hell will think, haven't branded a new recruit for millennia, but if you're happy to be claimed then fine". In retrospect maybe she should have listened a bit more carefully to this.

Hastur was pacing when they came back into the room. From his point of view they both looked at him the same way and his first thought was maybe a plot of some sort. When they both walked over smiling he took a half defensive stance. Lenore kissed him and, after a small hesitation, Ligur joined in and he got the two contrasting tastes again. He was confused, but not unhappy, and kissed back before looking at them quizzically. "S'ok" said Ligur "you can do it, but you gotta clear it with the committee first". Hastur beamed at them. He'd been almost sure he'd get his own way, he virtually always did. Clearing it with the committee wouldn’t be a problem. Beelzebub chaired Hell’s ‘committee’ and, although they didn’t seem to appreciate all the hard work he put in, they were surprisingly willing to indulge him most of the time. No, it wouldn’t be a problem, he could have his pet marked up the same as him, all was good. He suggested drinks to celebrate.

Hastur drank a lot while he told Ligur the story of their visit to the pits. He urged Ligur on to drink more too. Both demons were obviously quite drunk when Hastur decided they should teach her how to groom their wings. "Be really useful" he slurred mildly. Ligur wasn't sure but Hastur was already trying to pull him out of his shirt and shaking at him to get out his wings. Lenore noted Ligur's chest was smooth and hairless and he had no marks of burning or any other deformity she could see. He did look somewhat bashful and not at all keen to get his wings out for inspection though. She intervened "Hastur s'not fair to try and make him if he doesn't want to, why don't you go first". He suddenly became shy himself, muttering about not being a pretty sight. "I've seen, you know what I think already" she reminded him. He cheered up considerably saying to Ligur in the loud stage whisper used by drunk people to denote subtlety "she's weird, thinks I'm 'beautiful' don't cha know" he giggled and grinned.

Hastur pulled himself out of his coat and shirt, chucking them on the floor. He squared his shoulders and gave a deliberately dramatic shake to manifest his wings. Lenore was, again, entranced. She sat gazing at Hastur a look of utter adoration on her face. Ligur looked from her to Hastur and back muttering something like 'soppy human'. Hastur sat wrong way round on a chair and gestured for them to stand behind him. He insisted Ligur show her what to do. She couldn’t quite believe she would get to touch him, it didn’t seem real. She had to control the shaking in her hands before reaching out to brush the feathers. The actual grooming didn't seem complicated. Once she’d taken a few deep breaths she had no problem helping tease the feathers into position, making sure the barbs knitted together, cleaning off the odd bit of dirt or grit. They worked down one wing and onto the other, slightly twisted, side. This was a little more difficult, some of the feathers turned awkwardly and the bones were ever so slightly out of alignment. Ligur treated him like he was made of glass, so delicate and careful. She worried about pulling too hard or hurting him, but Ligur helped guide her hands and help her feel the right amount of pull or pressure to apply. It was very intimate in a totally non-sexual way.

Between them they finished and stood back to admire their work only to realise Hastur had fallen asleep under their ministrations. The head-frog was breathing gently and also seemed to be asleep. Lenore sighed looking down at him. His wings were flared out dramatically and reflected the firelight in weird ways as they moved in time with his breathing. Although initially she’d thought they were mostly black with some brown they seemed to reflect a slightly blueish tinge in the light. She still couldn’t quite believe this was real. Hovering a hand over him, not touching for fear of waking him, she gently whispered under her breath "such a beautiful creature".

Ligur looked at her strangely. She wasn't like any human he'd encountered before. He was reassured to see she almost seemed to worship Hastur, wanted to please him, make him happy. Ligur would never admit it but he approved of this attitude. He cared about Hastur's well-being, not in the soppy way the human did, but enough to make it undemonic. He hoped Hastur would never find out just how much he cared, he also hoped Hastur understood he was on his side and could be depended on if necessary. More than any human anyway - humans were weird, humans got tempted, humans weren't reliable. He resolved to keep a closer eye on the situation, but didn't think there was much else he could do. He wondered what she thought about him, then wondered why he cared.

"What's he told you about me?" Ligur suddenly asked. "He doesn't think you want to kill him all the time" she replied and he laughed. "About 'us' I mean - y'know, me and him - gotta have told you something after last time" Ligur pressed. "Said it was 'complicated' and that he liked you, that's about it really - I'm not jealous and I'm not trying to change stuff, if that's what you want to know". Hastur had told her he ‘liked’ him? That was new. Well, he supposed he ‘liked’ Hastur too, when he wasn't being too annoying anyway. He’d not really thought about it before. Far as he was concerned they simply belonged together, liking didn’t come into it, or at least it never had before. He replied "humph, you couldn't change anything even if you wanted to, but nice to know you don't. Me n'him go way back. Bet you're wondering why he ‘likes’ me - bit different from the pit demons aren't I?" Lenore had been wondering just that, but answered "none of my business". Ligur looked pleased "that's right" he said. Relenting a little he added "there are reasons, maybe I'll tell you one day" and that was that. She was falling asleep on her feet, so left them to go upstairs to bed. At some point she was woken up by Hastur getting in next to her and clutching her to him, but then she fell asleep again.


	20. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur wakes up and he’s not in Hell - the three of them have some time together then we get a bit of Hastur’s demonic philosophy and he has a good complain about things.
> 
> Maybe Lenore is finally getting a better idea of the two demon’s relationship with each other, equally maybe her presence is giving the demons some perspective on their own relationship too….?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a link between events, but hopefully gives a glimpse into how the relationships are developing - the plot picks up again in the next chapter.

Lenore didn't wake up screaming, which was probably a good thing. She was in bed with a demon though. Hastur seemed to have tangled himself around her in a confusing mess of arms and legs. He couldn't be comfortable. Thankfully he'd tucked his wings away or he'd have undone all their earlier work in grooming him. She shifted slightly under his weight and the movement woke him. Some people are groggy when they wake up, or affectionate and cuddly, Hastur woke up prepared for war. He let out a loud cry, flew backwards across the bedroom and had his fists up in a defensive stance scanning the room for hostile forces in an instant. She was alarmed, but carefully didn't move any further, or say anything, in case the sudden movement upset him. It took a few seconds before he realised where he was.

He grinned sheepishly "I'm not in Hell". She hoped this was a comment about his state of mind, but accepted that, realistically, it was just a statement of fact. His next words were "where are my clothes?" and she noted he had managed to lose the rest of them at some point and was totally naked. It was the first time she'd been able to inspect him from a distance. He was kind of wiry, maybe even scrawny, except when he moved in certain ways and she caught sight of tight, compact muscles tensing under his skin. The green patches extended all over one side, a large patch covering almost all of his thigh. The scars going down his leg were weirdly twisted and coloured from white to deep purple. Lenore longed to touch him, but didn't move in case it startled him again.

"You lost the top half downstairs before I went up to bed, not sure about the rest. Maybe Ligur took them". She was trying hard not to look like she was staring, but couldn’t help it. He was beautiful. Hastur was paying attention now and could obviously tell she was half hypnotised by his naked body. He cautiously got back into the bed and burrowed under the covers. "Not coming out again until you find my clothes" he said sulkily. However, she then felt his hands pulling at her own night clothes and allowed him to envelope them in a duvet tent and strip her so they were both naked. He lay down flat, half pulling her onto him, and said with a grin "You can suck my cock now, go on, down you go, be a good pet". He grabbed her hair and yanked it so she was forced down under the covers, then let go. Apparently the rest was up to her.

She carefully placed her hands onto his chest and leaned in to kiss his body. He lay completely still. As he hadn't moved to stop her, she did it again, slightly lower this time shifting her hands down as she went. She discovered the green patches were more sensitive, judging by the way his breath hitched as she gently kissed them. They seeped small amounts of an odourless oily substance that tasted slightly bitter, but wasn't unpleasant. She ran her tongue along the edge of one area near his hip hearing his soft moan as she got nearer his cock. Her hands traced light patterns across his chest as she took her time centring in on him. He was squirming now, clearly wanting to push her on to him. She ignored the movement and moved down to kiss at the largest green area on his thigh. He hissed in frustration "you're meant to be sucking my cock, not getting all worked up over green ooze, bloody demon slut". It made her smile, but she decided not to tease any further and planted a kiss on his cock.

He was almost comfortable being naked around her. Well, it was ok when he was under the bedclothes anyway. He did wonder how he'd lost his clothes. Must be Ligur's idea of a joke he thought. It wouldn't be the first time, you couldn't trust that demon. He never seemed to come to any harm though so it must be ok really. He wasn't sure what to make of the fact he was putting up with her touching him like this though. If he thought about it, it actually felt quite nice, although he disapproved of the delay in getting to his cock. Well, she was weird he supposed, let her have fun with the ooze if it made her happy.

He hummed happily as she finally slid her mouth down taking in as much of him as she could. She took her time, going up and down slowly and making sure to use her tongue. With one hand she held him in place while the other gently massaged at the green patch on his thigh enjoying the slippery feel of the rough, uneven skin. She pushed down so her mouth was filled, pulling all the way up before going down again. Keeping the pace steady with a slow increase in speed each time. On each downward push she felt the tip hitting the back of her mouth. She could feel him pushing his hips slightly upwards and hear him groaning quietly. She only managed a few more passes before his cock swelled even further and he grabbed her head and held her in place as he came in her mouth.

She fought her way out of the tent of covers, not helped by Hastur who seemed determined to make it difficult. They scuffled briefly before he let her out, pulling her into a tight embrace. "What is it with you and demon stuff? You're all slimy" he laughed. This was all new to him and he was enjoying it. She was soft and warm and, as he’d said, slightly greasy from the contact with his green patches. He could easily overpower her, hurt her without effort, but he wasn't tempted to exploit her vulnerability. It was strange, but he actually liked just holding her. Admittedly he liked her struggles, the feeling of overpowering her and knowing she couldn’t escape him, but he didn’t feel the need to make her scream too. As she tried, and failed, to wriggle out of his grip she ended up rolling him on top of her. He got hold of her wrists and pulled them up above her head trapping her. They paused for a second and made eye contact, it felt significant. Then the door crashed open and they heard Ligur's voice grumbling "you up yet?" and they both dissolved in fits of giggles.

Ligur seemed to be lacking clothing too, he had a pair of plain black boxer shorts on but nothing else. "Where's all my stuff?" He asked grumpily. Hastur squealed "what do you mean 'your stuff' where are my clothes?" They both looked at Lenore who shrugged saying "I went to bed, dunno how you both managed to lose all your clothes" adding irritably "or why you waited until I was asleep to do it". 

Ligur half remembered the night before: grooming Hastur’s wings and being forced to share the task with the human. She was ok at it he admitted. He recalled what she’d said about Hastur 'liking' him. He’d thought about this a lot and decided he definitely did ‘like’ Hastur back (excluding those times when he was really, really annoying), but he didn’t think ‘liking’ each other was very demonic, so had resolved not to say anything about it. When the human had gone to bed he'd woken Hastur up - always a dangerous thing to do. They’d had a fight over it. Not a real fight, not trying to kill each other, more a comfortable familiar fight: a few punches, rolling for position, Hastur trying to claw his way out from Ligur’s tight grip. Then there was a bit of a blank. He thought it was probably Hastur's fault he’d lost his clothes, it was a familiar trick, you couldn’t trust that demon. It was no doubt his retaliation that led to Hastur losing his. Why they hadn’t thought to miracle them to a sensible place he didn't know. He blamed Hastur and his obsession with drinking too much. He thought things were probably going to be ok though. Hastur didn’t seem to have changed too much despite hanging around with the human. The deep gouges on his arms and chest that he’d had to heal when he woke up were typical of his Hastur, showed he hadn’t gone all soppy at any rate.

Hastur refused to get out of the bed until someone found his clothes. She wondered out loud why they didn't just miracle up some new ones but apparently 'it's not the same', so she threw on a dressing gown and joined Ligur in the search. Between them they found most items scattered around the house, only one scarf had completely disappeared. Hastur's underpants caused her some concern, she thought they might have been white at some distant point in time. She asked Ligur whether they could just pretend they couldn't find them, but he shook his head. Handing them over to Hastur she said "I'm going to buy you new ones sweetheart, don't mind if you keep everything else, but underwear shouldn't stand up on its own". 

She sat on the edge of the bed while the two demons dressed. Hastur was doing so awkwardly while still mostly under the covers, so she watched Ligur. She’d not considered him properly before and only now realised that he was quite attractive. Obviously not a patch on Hastur whom she adored, but Ligur wasn’t bad. She had thought he was stocky, maybe overweight, but it turned out he was just very well muscled. She admired his large, firm thighs and was just wondering what his cock looked like when Hastur grabbed her shoulders pulling her down onto the bed. “I know what you’re thinking little demon slut” he said smiling down into her face. “He’d let you suck it if I asked, bet you anything". She grinned back saying “go on then”.

Hastur bounced up and over to Ligur grabbing him in for an unexpected kiss that nearly toppled both of them. He then said “you want your cock sucking?” Ligur looked doubtful, giving a nod towards Lenore and saying “what, with her here?” Hastur hastened to clarify “no it's her what wants to do it, told you she’s a demon slut”. By this time Hastur seemed to have got Ligur’s trousers undone and stuck his hand down the front. Ligur did try to squirm away, but wasn’t given much choice. He stared at Lenore, shrugged, and turned back to Hastur “if she wants to then, you’re staying though right?” Hastur nodded happily, he felt it was only fair that Ligur got a turn with his pet, he’d shown her how to do his wings after all and Hastur had had his go first thing. He wasn’t at all wary of Lenore’s attitude, she clearly wanted to do it. He was pleased, if she liked Ligur too it was a good thing, would make it easier all round. Obviously she shouldn’t like Ligur as much as she liked him, but he wasn’t too worried about that either, she seemed obsessed with him.

Hastur guided Ligur to a seat, he then told her to take her robe off and give them a twirl. He then directed her to get on her knees. Ligur watched her through the process hypnotised by her compliance, he wasn’t sure what Hastur had done to her to make her so obedient. He’d certainly never bothered to train another human like this, although he didn’t seem to have had to force her to do anything. She seemed to want to do what he said just to make him happy. He thought he’d ask “why’d she do all this Hast?” who answered “my pet would do anything for me”. He added “besides the little slut loves it, got a thing about demons” and winked. He then said impatiently to Lenore “go on then demon slut, my friend is waiting”. Ligur liked ‘my friend’, Hastur had never called him that before he'd taken up with the human.

She took hold of Ligur’s cock stroking up and down the length until he was quite firm and then started to lick it. He was not quite as large as Hastur and the dark skin was a contrast to his pale. It twitched as she licked up the length of the shaft and played her tongue round the top. Ligur seemed to be getting impatient and grabbed at her head pushing her down. Hastur scolded him “hands off unless I tell you, it’s better if you don’t hurry her anyway”. She continued, deliberately slowing down to tease things out even further. Hastur had called her a 'demon slut' and she wanted to live up to it. Besides, she was enjoying herself, enjoying teasing a second demon like this. 

She kissed slowly along the length of the shaft holding him in place with her hand. Once she reached the top her tongue played around again and she took just the tip into her mouth. Hastur could see what she was up to “suck it properly, don't tease” he chided her and she took the whole length into her mouth in one swift move. Ligur groaned at the warm feeling and leant back in his chair, keeping his hands on the arm rests. She went up and down a few more times lapping the tip at each pass. Revelling in the knowledge that Hastur was watching her as she did it.

Hastur was having fun, watching her obey his instructions, kneeling in front of Ligur. He liked watching her at work, her eyes closed in concentration, clearly enjoying it. Ligur too looked happy, head back, smiling as she went up and down his length. They smelled enticing and he decided he wanted to join in.

She was building up a rhythm and just starting to get really into it when she felt hands behind her. Hastur instructed her “up you get demon slut” while pulling at her waist. He hastened to explain to Ligur “no sense wasting her cunt is there?” His words gave her a thrill, she loved the way he spoke about her in front of the other demon, such a turn on. She had to break contact to get up and Ligur groaned. Hastur said crossly “oi, no slacking” and she started again.

Behind her Hastur eased her legs apart and pushed a couple of fingers inside “oh you are wet aren’t you?” Lenore attempted to answer, but her mouth was full and her words simply vibrated along Ligur’s shaft. She tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but Hastur's hands were very distracting. He scolded her “pay attention pet” and withdrew his fingers causing her to moan. She then felt something much larger nudging at her entrance and braced herself for his thrust. When it came she felt a wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her and lost her rhythm on Ligur’s cock. He complained over her to Hastur “steady on, you’re putting her off”.

Hastur was delighted, Ligur was really enjoying it, wasn't just letting her do it to please him. So, he'd managed to persuade him that having a pet had advantages then, could be fun. Different from screaming, struggling humans crying in pain, begging them to stop. Better in many ways, more possibilities.

He smacked Lenore across the bottom “do your job demon slut” and he thrust into her hard as if to make his point. This sent fresh thrills running through her, she was really having fun now. With him thrusting into her it was difficult to keep control of how she took Ligur’s cock into her mouth. In the end she settled for mirroring Hastur’s own thrusts, feeling herself being pushed against Ligur, his cock hitting the back of her throat each time. While Hastur was going reasonably slowly this was sustainable, but he was rapidly speeding up and she wondered if she could keep it up. Her thighs were trembling and staying upright was difficult, it felt so good though. Suddenly she heard Ligur above her “fuck, she’s good” and Hastur's answer “told you so”. She felt his cock swelling but was unable to brace for it and ended up swallowing convulsively as he spurted into her mouth. Hastur carried on regardless grabbing her hips and pulling her back into him. A few more ragged thrusts and she knew that he had cum as well.

Ligur sat above her fully dressed and she heard Hastur finish dressing behind her, leaving her naked and sticky between them. “I’m going to shower” she announced. Hastur looked surprised “but it’s your turn now” he complained, “only fair”. He grabbed her up before she had time to object and virtually threw her on the bed. Despite the fact she was slick with sweat and cum Hastur started kissing down her body not stopping until he reached her pussy. She groaned falling back on the bed and closing her eyes. When she opened them again it was to see Ligur leaning over watching what Hastur was doing with interest. His attention sent a lightening bolt of desire down her. Hastur continued licking and kissing her, motioning Ligur to sit on the bed at the same time. Lenore lay back, enjoying the sensation, which got even nicer when Hastur inserted a couple of fingers and started curling them in and out. It was getting intense when suddenly she felt more hands touching her body and opened her eyes to see Ligur stroking her, when he reached her breasts he started massaging and lightly pinching her nipples. This was too good, she could feel her orgasm building. Ligur suddenly pinched much harder and she squealed, at which he chuckled. At the same time Hastur started suckling at her clit, pushing his fingers in and out quicker and quicker. This tipped her over and she cried out as her climax washed over her.

Lenore opened her eyes to see the two demons, sat back looking down at her, then Ligur leaned over to kiss Hastur. Both demons closed their eyes in concentration, obviously enjoying their kiss, Hastur moaning softly. She thought they looked so sweet together. Not wanting to disturb them she wriggled out from underneath and really did head off to the shower this time.

Ligur was definitely feeling happier about this whole pet human thing. Hastur hadn’t gone all soppy and was clearly treating him as more important than her. She was his 'demon slut', he was his 'friend', he liked that word. She seemed to revel in Hastur’s treatment of her too, enjoy being subservient to him, doing his bidding. That was acceptable behaviour for a human. She was also blessed good at blow jobs judging by that performance. Plus he got to watch Hastur, eyes shining with lust, smiling and happy while he shagged her. He'd never really considered the possibilities before, but this could be fun.

When they were all downstairs Lenore offered to cook breakfast. This was fascinating to the two demons, as they’d never paid much attention to where humans got food from before. Neither had hung around kitchens and were impressed at the array of sharp knives, the blender, coffee bean grinder, gas rings and a pan of hot oil. Hastur whispered something about it being a perfect place for torments so she charged him with frying eggs - the oil splashed slightly and he screamed so loudly she had to take over. “Downright dangerous this is” he grumbled. She’d done sausages and bacon in the oven and, together with fried eggs, fried tomatoes, toast and coffee they loaded up a couple of trays and carried them up to the dining room. Hastur asked “why don’t you just eat in the kitchen?”, which was a good question really. Eating in the dining room was a habit and it felt weird being in the ‘back-of-house’ areas even though the staff had been sent away.

Ligur left shortly afterwards saying he had stuff to do, so they had an entire day to themselves. Lenore wondered how you were meant to entertain a demon on his day off and thought about more films, but Hastur wanted to look round the house. After spending so much time in the country mansion the town house felt small to her but was huge by normal London standards. In the cellar were the kitchen, staff common-room and a small wine cellar, the ground floor had a library and dining room at the front with the drawing room at the back which had doors opening onto a small garden. Upstairs was the main bedroom with en suite and dressing room, two smaller guest bedrooms and the main family bathroom. The top, attic floor, had what used to be servants’ bedrooms from the days they lived in, but now housed a neat office with the rest used mainly for storage. The house was detached and well sound-proofed - probably a good thing given the screaming of late - although the neighbouring houses weren’t always occupied. In this London suburb a lot of the properties were second or even third homes and only used occasionally.

Hastur was impressed and a little perturbed. He’d never much cared about humans or earth before, he’d assumed they all had a nice easy time of it - it was the demons who’d had the unfair deal. However, he’d been paying more attention of late and said “there are people sleeping in that park round the corner and most of this house is empty, how does that work?” The inequalities caused by wealth, especially inherited wealth, were a puzzle to the demon. He didn’t understand how one person could have a huge, mostly empty house and no-one tried to fight her for it. She reminded him she’d inherited the house from Lord C and his undoubted good fortune was down to Hastur and the contract. That cheered him up.

As their talk widened out it became clear that Hastur was an idealist. He believed in the fundamental evil in all people: no good deed went unpunished and bad deeds were always paid forwards. His job was to ensure their natural evil tendencies won out over all that 'sanctimonious angelic crap' - teach Her a lesson: humans belong to Hell. He believed Hell would triumph in the end and everyone would get what they deserved. It was hard to tell whether he believed in fairness and justice or whether it was envy and revenge that motivated him. It seemed to amount to the same thing anyway: an eager anticipation of things being made ‘fair’. For everyone who wasn’t with him this involved punishment, for himself and a few select others it was to be rewarded. He said dreamily that ‘come the great war’ they would take over heaven, destroy Her monopoly on power and set themselves up to enjoy things, with no bosses and no rules. The pipes wouldn’t leak and the booze would be plentiful.

Lenore was irritated. Hastur seemed to have forgotten she was human - again - and might not like being called ‘fundamentally evil’. She decided it wasn’t worth starting an argument over though, instead she asked how things currently worked in Hell. He explained they didn’t have enough of anything and everyone fought for space and resources. Rooms and power for miracles were awarded on merit or viciousness - apparently these two traits were often seen as the same thing. Members of the Dark Council were based in Chambers in the upper halls, which seemed the least Hellish part of Hell. They had a fair amount of space with decent bars and even restaurants(!). Below them were the various working floors where the committee met in its Hall and he and Ligur shared an off-duty room to crash in ‘or whatever’. They had an open plan office where they worked with their staff and there was a small room off the main office, which one of them could use as their personal office. It sounded like this was a bit contentious, as only one could really work in there and neither wanted to fight the other for it. It was used mainly for stationery hoarding and illicit cigarette breaks.

He complained that when he’d come up from the pits they hadn’t allocated him his own space, had just assumed he’d share with Ligur. Lenore wanted to know if that was a problem and he reluctantly admitted he’d been sharing with Ligur anyway so it hadn’t made a difference; but it was the principle of it that annoyed him. She pressed him, asking if he would use ‘his room’ if he had one, and he again reluctantly admitted he wouldn’t: why would he want to sit in a room on his own? She couldn’t see why it was a problem then, but he said every other Duke had at least one room to themselves so it wasn’t fair he had to share, even if he wanted to.

Lenore thought it sounded adorable, the two demons sharing a room together for thousands of years. Even after all that time, he still didn’t want his own space: and Hastur had said he 'guessed' he 'liked' him! Her demon: tall and pale with his squat frog and Ligur: short and dark with the delicate little chameleon, perfectly contrasted, so beautiful together. She pictured Ligur’s colourful eyes gazing into Hastur’s dark ones imaging them cuddling together in their room. She sighed thinking how romantic it was - then forced herself to think a bit more objectively and found even she couldn’t quite square the word ‘romantic’ with either demon, nor with the bare, damp room and it's pile of dirty mattresses. Maybe holding hands over a freshly killed corpse in the moonlight might be more apt. Still too cute for words.

Hastur cut into her train of thought by continuing his complaints about overcrowding on the working floors. The staff break-rooms and bar areas were apparently perpetually busy and, while it was in theory possible to requisition space if needed for work, it was strictly controlled. Demons had taken to squatting in any empty room they could find rather than go through the complex process to try and book one. This led to fights when the rightful owners turned up and had to throw the squatting demons out. Everyone was overworked and they couldn’t keep up with the paperwork coming in, let alone make any inroads into the backlog. Hastur bemoaned the ‘go forth and multiply’ injunction as irresponsible - ‘Hell wasn’t set up to deal with this volume of people’. The pits were the worst off, not even room to breathe down there, certainly no bars or restaurants - although thanks to Hastur they at least had the club room. The lower pits were where they sent disloyal or traitorous demons for torments. Even Hastur seemed reluctant to talk about what went on down there - but he was keen to point out that demons only ended up there after a fair trial, no undeserved torments.

He then went back to his complaints about the under-resourcing of ‘Armageddon Planning', which he seemed to view as some sort of deliberate conspiracy by someone or other to delay the great war. Although he wasn't sure why any demon would want to stop it, he was convinced there was a plot to ditch it. Maybe it was the posh demons in the nice upper floors, or the agents spoiled by having so much free-time up on earth. He wasn’t sure, but was obviously not happy about it. Armageddon was his chance to get vengeance on heaven for what they did to him, what they had done to all the demons. He muttered darkly that Lenore didn’t know the half of it: angels were vicious, unfair creatures and deserved to suffer and he was going to ensure they suffered terribly for what they did. He started up again with ‘come the great war…’ and Lenore decided to cut off what would obviously turn into a long rant by suggesting lunch.

They once again went down to the kitchen taking the breakfast dishes with them. Hastur actually offered to help and she gave him a choice of making sandwiches or washing up. He said he'd supervise. So she did everything while he criticised, telling her she was taking too long over things or hadn’t cleaned the plates properly or cut the bread straight. Eventually she snapped at him “Oi, just standing there criticising isn’t fair”. He seemed to think this was some sort of victory saying happily “life ain’t fair” and grinning widely. They ate sandwiches in the library drinking a bottle of white wine she’d taken out of the fridge. Deciding she’d heard enough about how hellish Hell was she suggested they take a look at the ‘appraisals’ instead and try to make sense of the ratings system, which certainly didn’t seem ‘fair’ to her.


	21. The Pit Club Meets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going on down in Hell? Who exactly is Nergal and why does it matter? What is the correct etiquette when hosting a party for demons?
> 
> All the questions you never asked, kind of answered....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's time for some major plot developments. This chapter should give a good indication of the way things are going.
> 
> I'm posting this chapter with the next as they are another set of linked chapters and follow on directly from each other. Didn't want to spoil the flow, but it didn't feel right to mix it all up into one long chapter either...

Hastur hated managing - it seemed everybody was less competent than him, but he also had a steadfast loyalty to most of his staff and was determined not to admit they were incompetent to his bosses. It was difficult to see how he could square this. The plans would help, as he could use them to prove he was being ‘fair’ (that word again) while still meeting the ‘quota’ for failing demons. He took a personal hand in disciplinary matters and enjoyed it (so long as he felt he was being fair). Lenore was starting to realise just how much Hastur liked hurting things. The torments seemed quite limited in scope, for minor issues at least, although they ramped up the more serious it got. Demons overstepping the proscribed torments would themselves face disciplinary action. It was complicated, but she could see a certain fairness to it. Hastur's view was, so long as they 'deserved' it, he was happy to be involved, very happy. This led back to a discussion of the day in the pits and his previous grievances about Nergal and the unfair treatment of the denizens of the pit.

He was getting quite heated when he completely sidetracked himself by talking about whips again, then said “pet, can I hurt you?” in a gentle, hopeful voice. She'd seen how angry he was over Nergal and the unfairness of it all and really didn't feel comfortable letting him loose on her in that state of mind. She suggested later, saying she didn’t think it was a good idea when he was so worked up. Surprisingly he took her point and didn't try to push it. He did look disappointed though and she resolved to make it up to him later, when he was calmer. He went straight back to his complaints about Nergal, sounding more worked up than ever.

With the benefit of hindsight she thought this had been a pivotal moment in terms of what happened next: if she’d said ‘yes’ would things have turned out differently?

Hastur expanded on his concerns “We’ve gotta do something about this, no way Nergal should be overseeing the pits, it’s a clear conflict of interest. He’s in charge of ‘Loyalty and Justice’, that’s internal investigations, collecting evidence for disciplinaries, reporting plots to the Dark Council, uncovering conspiracies and finding traitors. Then his lot hand over to the lower pits for the preliminary examination only going to trial if the decision is disputed. Pit demons are professionals, with precedents and independent judges - they even co-opt panel judges from the ordinary demon population - it’s a fair system and everyone knows it. If you give Nergal control over trial and torments too it ain't fair any more. ‘Loyalty and Justice’ are bad enough with dodgy evidence, anonymous informers and whatever goes on in their ‘House’, without them getting control of the pits too - it’s a power grab and a dangerous one”. She had to agree it sounded wrong - it basically seemed to be giving the secret police control of the judiciary. She suggested caution though, if he was going up against the head of the secret police who was also head of the judiciary then it had the potential to go wrong very quickly. “Gonna talk to Ligur” he said and promptly disappeared.

She was at a bit of a loss, she was working for him, and by extension Hell, so didn’t know whether this could affect her directly. She resolved to ask Hastur about this aspect. The last thing she wanted was to be identified as part of a plot and handed over to the pit demons for torment. She reminded herself that, however cute they may appear to her, they were professional torturers. The thought made her shiver and she resolved not too think too much about the actual nature of their jobs. Certainly Hastur probing around, trying to limit the power of the secret police, sounded dangerously like a plot - at least from the secret police point of view and it seemed that might be the only view that mattered.

She leafed through the files and settled to read a long account of a case of envy from the time of the first world war. It was set in the trenches centring around the distribution of cigarettes, but with lots of gory incidental detail. It would probably be very interesting to any social historians, it was also gruesomely detailed enough to take her mind off the issues at hand.

Hastur appeared as she was banking the fire up for the night. He looked determined saying "have to borrow your library pet, ain't safe talking down there and we got a lot to talk about". "We have?" She asked confused and he tried to clarify "not you n' me pet, me n' them". "You and who?" She was mystified. "Pit club demons, an' Ligur, that's it for now, can't trust anyone else". It took a few seconds before his meaning sunk in. When she understood she still wasn't sure she'd got it right. "You wanna have a pit club meeting in my library?" She asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, guess so. What's the matter, you got enough booze don't you?" That appeared to be the only problem he could see with filling her house with demons. "When?" She asked, "um, 'bout half an hour?" At least he looked slightly apologetic about the short notice. "How many" she sighed. Apparently it would ‘only’ be six plus Ligur. She resigned herself to hosting yet another party, it was better than letting him get into trouble down in Hell all on his own anyway. Did you offer sherry to visiting demons, or would whisky be more appropriate? She decided to make punch and went to look for glasses and a punch bowl.

Hastur shouted after her "oh yeah, you made Beelzebub send a memo" he seemed to think this was very funny. She was baffled, so he elaborated "gotta have a stamped requisition form to use the torments rooms now, prove it's work related. Everyone knows it's cuz of you" he giggled. She did point out he was at least, if not more, to blame, but he kept snickering so she bustled off to make the punch. She thought there were a few bottles of rum around somewhere and some triple sec, maybe if she threw in some cartons of pineapple and orange juice, maybe get a jar of maraschino cherries too. Yeah, that should do it. She'd show them 'fancy cocktails'.

Hastur went to the dining room to collect chairs. She bought the big punch bowl out, a Georgian antique with a silver serving ladle and a set of a dozen glasses. She tipped in multiple bottles of booze and juice cartons topping with a jar of cherries much to Hastur's amusement. "It's pit demons pet, just give 'em something simple". In defiance she bought up a couple of buckets of ice and some bottles of the good champagne, together with the pretty fluted glasses Lord C had inherited from a great aunt. Possibly he killed said aunt for the glasses she reflected sadly. 'Food' she thought, no time for canapés so she emptied bags of crisps into a couple of large bowls, ditto some peanuts and found a large jar of olives. Spread out on a couple of long tables at the back of the library it looked almost like she'd planned a party. Years of practice with impromptu entertaining seemed to have paid off. She considered napkins, but felt that would be a step too far, so just stoked the fire back up ready for a long night. The last thing she did was change into a cocktail dress in dark red satin with a flared skirt and black net petticoat just peeping out under the hem. Hastur approved, growling and kissing her. The feel of wriggling maggots against her face was strangely reassuring.

The demons started arriving shortly after. She didn't catch all the names, but recognised Brontes, Charu and Kevin, who were the first to arrive. They were followed by a very tall one with sprouts of green hair that she thought she recognised from the party. Then came a bearded demon with a sad, old face and a small lively, bright-red one with horns; she was called Xaphan. She seemed drawn to the coal fire and started feeding and poking it until Lenore got Hastur to pull her away. Lenore poured glasses of champagne, handing them round and indicated the nibbles and punch at the back. The hospitality, along with the plush surroundings of the library, seemed to slightly overawe the demons. Brontes remained irrepressible, nudging Lenore painfully in the ribs saying "did he tell you Beelzebub put a memo out cuz a'you?" leering at her in an unsettling manner. She grinned back hissing "it was all Hastur, honest" winking heavily, which made Brontes laugh alarmingly. Ligur arrived last and declined champagne.

Hastur clearly felt this called for ceremony "now we art all here" he started pompously. Then seemed to baulk at the formality and said "y'all know what this is about, let's just get on with it". Lenore interjected "is this off the records or do you want me to make notes?" The demons looked alarmed. Ligur answered, glaring at her, "written records is dangerous. This is demonic business anyway, dunno if you should even be here". There was a murmur of agreement, even Hastur was nodding. She addressed him with some heat "you either trust me or you don't employ me at all. I spent years around embassy, foreign office and military intelligence when I was hosting parties for his deceased Lordship, I understand discretion". Hastur said seriously "it's more to protect you, if you don't know nuffin they won't go after you". She laughed at the naivety of this "if they 'go after' you they'll destroy me without thinking, I'm not even a demon, wouldn't even get a trial". There was a general agreement at this and Charu said "she's a member too, only right she should be included". That seemed to be that so she took a chair at the back and prepared to listen quietly.

The demons first of all called on Ligur to report. He glanced at Lenore then began. What it boiled down to was definite evidence of a power grab by Nergal aided by a couple of other members of the Dark Council. Nergal was the obvious leader of the three and was seen as a potential figurehead for a coup. That is what they suspected - a coup against what they euphemistically called ‘The Big Boss’. Ligur was short on the detail of what they hoped to achieve, but it was well known that Nergal was one of the demons most keen to focus on reforming Hell rather than pushing for the great war. Hastur suspected they wanted to stop Armageddon altogether, but by the way the other demons rolled their eyes, and her own experience of his exasperation at Armageddon Planning, she assumed this was a familiar gripe from Hastur so wasn’t necessarily true.

According to Brontes they'd been sounding out the senior pit demons and Ligur had found out they'd talked to some of the more unpopular Dukes too. Various other demons had bits and pieces to add and all wanted to be seen to be participating. Lenore made sure glasses were filled and moved 'nibbles' to be in reach of where they sat. The most explosive bit of information came unexpectedly from Kevin who suddenly threw in the fact that Nergal had 'spoken to Barbas about The Big Boss', expressing concern over his health and asking maybe if he needed a 'rest cure'. Apparently the suggestion had been rebutted for now, but it gave the gathered demons pause for thought. Given that bit of information a coup was sounding more likely, and more imminent. The idea of Nergal and ‘Loyalty and Justice’ taking over Hell seemed to terrify the collected demons, at all costs they wanted to stop him.

The conversation moved to the practical. 'What should they do?' It was suggested they simply tell Beelzebub of their suspicions, but accusing a member of the Dark Council, and head of security to boot, seemed dangerous. The demons talked back and forth arguing between themselves. They all agreed telling anyone anything officially was a bad idea but they also agreed they should do something, so they were ready if the coup did happen. The collected demons believed a coup would be directed against the symbolic seat of power at the Chambers where the Dark Council met. Nergal was Dark Council so obviously considered the Council were the most important part of Hell, but the demons believed the real power vested with the committee. This meant their best bet would be to strengthen The Hall of the Great Committee. Their main idea seemed to be building great big defensive walls so they could fight the army when the Dark Council tried to take the Hall.

Lenore recalled talk of unsuccessful coups from her time on the edges of diplomatic circles. She remembered one recurring point, so tentatively suggested securing lines of communication might be more important. Keeping control of the message. Ligur unexpectedly backed her up, pointing out the committee were seen as marginally more in touch with the ‘reality under the ground' so might attract popular support. Why not use the Hall as a rallying point? If anything happened, ignore the Chambers, and call a demonic resistance to the Hall. Stuff building walls, it would only attract attention, they needed support from ordinary demons and wanted to avoid an all out battle if possible. The idea garnered support and individuals agreed to sound out their contacts, they all seemed to think there were demons who would join them. They would be ready, if/when there was a coup, to get a large body of demons down to the Hall to defend it if necessary. The meeting seemed to come to a natural conclusion.

Lenore filled everyone's glass and suggested they drink to 'seal the deal' - a popular suggestion even though they didn't know the phrase. The demons stood and drank solemnly. After downing their glasses they began to leave, thanking Lenore for providing -'booze and crunchy stuff and fire'. As the last of them left she felt relieved. Turning to Hastur she said "do you still want to hurt me?" His expression suddenly turned hungry and dangerous with desire. She loved that look. Deciding to add more fuel to the fire she added "will you make me scream?" He grabbed her, pulling her in for an intense kiss, when he released her he said "upstairs now pet, take your clothes off". She virtually ran up the stairs.


	22. A Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of porn here. Oh Hastur, why do you always have to push things?
> 
> Last sex scene for a while here guys - the plot pretty much takes over for the next few chapters.
> 
> *potential warning for things veering towards non-con at one point - but they don't really. It's complicated. Notes at the end this time where I'll try and explain what I mean....

She stood naked in the middle of the room, waiting, and she didn't have to wait for long. Hastur threw the door open, striding through in a dramatic way as an unlikely bolt of lightning lit up the hall behind him. The door slammed shut to the accompanying sound of thunder. He waved a hand and the room was lit dimly with a deep red glow of uncertain source. His pitch black eyes picked up a red glint and he emanated a sense of danger and menace. Sharp darts of desire mixed with fear stabbed through her and she shivered slightly as he approached.

A whip appeared in his hand. "On your front on the bed, now" he said in a quiet voice but one carrying the power of a command. A wave of lust washed over her as she did as he said. "Arms and legs to the corners" he continued and she felt cords wrapping around her wrists and ankles stretching her taut. She could hear him approaching the bed and felt his hand on her ankle sliding up her leg "good pet, you're going to be good aren't you?" She almost whimpered in response saying she would be good and he hummed satisfied. His hand reached her cunt and he explored gently saying "demon slut, you're wet already. Want me to fuck you?" She said 'yes please' slightly breathlessly. "You gotta earn it first" was his slightly sinister reply.

Hastur was excited. Although he'd suggested this earlier, coming back to it was all her idea. She had moved from allowing him to hurt her, through active agreement to it, now on to suggesting it herself. He knew deep in his demonic heart that he should be deferred to, given what he wanted without question, but having it happen in practice was exhilarating. He was also enjoying her reaction to his deliberately dramatic entrance. He'd chosen a whip that wasn't too painful on its own, but he'd had another idea about that.

She lost sight of him as he walked round behind her and felt a stinging blow hit her shoulder and tensed against her bonds crying out loudly. He quickly followed it up with a second and a then third without giving her time to recover. She was at the point of screaming when he paused. She felt him sit on the bed next to her, his hand on her back, at first it was gentle, cooling on the hot welts, but then she felt the sharp points of his claws resting against her. Thinking she knew what he was about to do she tried to move away, asking him not to. He ignored her and she screamed as the scratches were dragged across her already marked back. She thought she could feel bleeding and sobbed into the bed. "Shhhh pet, be good now, it’s going to get worse, but you'll be ok, stay still for me".

He was confident she wouldn't try to stop him yet. He looked at the blood beading along the lines of the scratches and the deeper tears over the raised welts. He thought she was so pretty, so good and pure. His demonic instinct to hurt and damage her was almost overwhelming. He could taste the fear mixed with lust, feel her overriding her natural reaction to the pain in order to submit to him. It felt very, very good.

He stepped back and she felt another sharp sting, like something was cutting into her back on the opposite shoulder this time, then two more in quick succession. These hurt more than the first set as she was already in pain, the nerves sensitized and raw. She cried into the bed feeling her shoulder muscles twitching in response to the blows. Then he was back sitting down and raking his claws down her back. Her whole back was burning now, she was straining against the cords at her wrists and ankles and shouting out in pain. He leant down whispering into her ear "shush pet, shhhh, it's ok, you're so good, so pretty, try to stay still now, be good for me". She tried to stop her sobbing, pushing her tear stained face hard into the mattress. He wanted her to be good and she yearned to please him. She must manage to be good for him. Let him do this. He needed it and she wanted to make him happy.

She felt him stroking her leg as the bindings round her wrists and ankles tightened further, pulling her taut. The tension made her joints ache. There were another three sharp lightening bolts of pain across her back and he was sitting by her again, his claws resting points down, his other hand gently stroking her face. He looked into her eyes, his voice was deeply lustful as he said "this will really hurt now pet, you're going to scream, but I know you'll be good". He was fascinated by what she was letting him do to her. The pure white skin of her back was almost completely destroyed by scratches and welts. He still wanted more, wanted it so very badly he was almost trembling with desperate need. He took a deep breath. He raked his claws over her again, relishing the unrestrained screams and her futile attempts to move away. Waves of lust coursed through him, he didn't want to give her time to stop him, this was too good.

She hadn’t stopped screaming from the last set before she felt the sharp stings of the whip against her back again. She couldn't tell where they fell and wasn't even aware of him resting his claws on her back for a fourth time. "One more pet, nearly over now, be good for me". The pain seared into her back feeling like he was cutting her down to the bone. She screamed again shouting 'no' as he sat back down shushing her. She gulped down air trying to stop the sobs that were making it hard to breathe. Her back was on fire, the burning pulses of pain almost too much even though he'd stopped scratching.

Hastur realised he couldn’t stop, needed more, he had to hurt her again. He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh stopping just before the top, resting the points of his claws against her. She was near to panicking as she said "no, no, please". Suddenly digging in his claws he scratched down hard. She screamed twisting as hard as she could but she was bound too tight, stretched out, completely helpless, unable to move even the smallest amount. She shouted out between the sobs "no, no, not fair, please you can't, no, please no". He kissed her along the tracks of her tears and brushed her hair from her face. If only she’d let him carry on, just for a bit longer. He wanted that feeling again, the ecstasy he got from her submission, it was so addictive. "Gotta do the other leg now pet, you don't want me to stop now do you? Just one more then we're done, you've been so good, just a little bit more, s'ok isn't it?" He was desperate to continue, but waited for an answer. She just sobbed so he asked again "you don't want me to stop do you pet? Tell me you want one more, say 'please' for me pretty pet". If only she would say it, ask him to continue, he needed to hear her confirm his absolute power over her.

She did want him to stop, but equally she didn't want to disappoint him now he was asking, being so nice. She also felt, bizarrely, that he should scratch her other leg, that if she stopped him now she would feel uneven, incomplete. The cords pulling at her wrists and ankles hurt, the bindings starting to cut off the blood supply and her joints burning from being stretched out. The pain from her back was pulsing, making her slightly nauseous and dizzy, but overriding this was a fierce desire to be good for him, be his pet. If only she could make herself submit completely, let him damage her again, satisfy his need. Taking a breath she managed to choke out the word 'please' and was screaming again as his claws raked the inside of her other thigh. He spoke directly into her ear "my good, pretty little pet, you're so brave, so good, I don't know what I've done to deserve you, you're so good, so very good for me". Lenore smiled despite the tears and hot, burning pain. The pressure of the bindings seemed to lessen a little, she could feel her circulation returning to normal, but she was still tied firmly in place.

She felt his hand on her bottom stroking and kneading it, his voice still purring in her ear. His fingers, claws retracted, rubbed along the crack and teased around her hole. His touch felt slippery, like he'd added lube of some sort, and he pushed one finger into her while still crooning endearments into her ear. "You're going to be good aren't you pet, you'll let me do whatever I want with you won't you? Say 'yes' pet" she said 'yes' as he pushed his finger further in. "Say 'please' for me pet, ask me to fuck you" she complied as his finger continued pushing in and out. She felt him lining up behind her and his finger being withdrawn to be replaced by something larger. He pushed in gently, not exactly hurting her, but not exactly pleasant either. She was in pain, too tight and too tense for this. "That's it pet, you're ok aren't you?" She reluctantly agreed she was ‘ok’ and he began fucking her, slowly at first but speeding up quickly.

In a demanding voice he said "you want me to do this don't you? Say ‘yes’ for me". The fast pace was getting increasingly uncomfortable and it was starting to hurt. Being tied in place with his weight pressing on her made her feel vulnerable. He’d not tried anal sex with her before, and she wasn’t very experienced with it, but surely it wasn’t meant to hurt like this? He repeated in a more demanding tone "say ‘yes’". Lenore said "yes" instinctively, but wasn't sure if she meant it. She didn’t know what he was doing, he was talking to her as if he was still going to hurt her but she didn't know how. She was apprehensive and couldn't relax, wasn't enjoying it, was sacred even. He was going very fast now bashing his hips into her. There was more pain than pleasure and it was getting worse, much worse. She started crying, not sure what to do, she wanted this to stop. Suddenly his claws scraped down her damaged back making her scream in agony as already torn skin was flayed further. She tensed against him and his violent thrusts into her became really painful, feeling like he was tearing her inside. She was struggling and screaming, couldn't get her words out, as the pain overwhelmed her. After what felt like a long time she just about managed to shout “deal” but he was already cumming. Then it was over. She was relieved. She managed to stop screaming, but continued shaking and crying. She was really upset. Certainly didn’t want him to do that again.

Hastur was stroking her hair again, kissing the side of her face gently. "Good pet, you did really well, my good, pretty pet". Lenore knew she had to explain to him how she was feeling, but couldn't articulate it yet. She felt the cords on her wrists and ankles being released and tried to pull herself into a ball but he was holding onto her, pulling her into an embrace. "Didn't like that" she said tearfully. Hastur was concerned "my poor pet, did I hurt you? It's ok, it's over now, you're ok pet" he stroked her hair like she was a kitten and held her head close to his chest. Clutched tightly to him, breathing in his distinctive burning, rotting vegetation smell she started to feel a bit calmer. "You put up with so much, you're so good, my pretty pet” he murmured.

Lenore knew she had to tell him, go into detail, but was finding it difficult to know what to say “don’t want you to do that again, it wasn’t good, not nice”. He answered “it’s ok pet, just use your word, I’ll stop as soon as you say”. He didn’t understand. She needed to try and explain further. It was difficult when she was still so shaken, but she tried because it was important “if you want to fuck me that way you’ve got to be nice, don’t make it hurt inside, it’s not fair, it's confusing, I don't like it” her voice broke into a wail at the the end and she was crying again.

Ah, now he thought he understood. Making sex painful clearly wasn't part of the 'deal' then. He’d not tried it before and was regretting it now. He'd always played on how much she desired him, making her beg 'til she was desperate for him to fuck her. Enjoying the rush it gave him. Knowing she'd let him do anything so long as he rewarded her. Now he'd confused her by mixing up pain with what should have been her reward. He didn't want her to be confused, she might try to stop him altogether if he upset the balance. He wondered if he should have noticed her real distress. He should have been able to sense it, but had been too distracted, not paying enough attention. He needed to be more careful, make sure he gave her time to stop him if she needed to. Composing himself he said “shush, it’s ok pet. I hear you. I won’t do that again if you don’t want me to, not like that. I understand. It's ok. You're ok now aren't you pet?" He kissed the top of her head, continuing to stroke her hair, holding her close, really hoping that would be enough. What she gave him was too good to give up. The rush he got from the way she yielded to him, offered herself so willingly, he'd never felt that before. He didn't want to lose it.

Lenore was feeling better. He seemed so concerned, so worried about her, and he’d agreed not to do it again. She confirmed “I’m ok, it’s ok" glad he was so understanding. She looked up into his pure black eyes and felt a thrill of desire again, he really was beautiful, and evil, she thought, another thrill running through her at the word evil. Yes: so evil, so cruel and oh so sexy and he wanted her, desired her, needed her. She remembered his voice filled with lust as he'd used the whip and scratched her, how he'd brushed the tears from her face and kissed her so gently. How much he appreciated her, how she'd satisfied him, pleased him. Despite the burning pain she was feeling happier now, the endorphins making her elated and floaty. She wanted him now too, lust coursing through her, she was content to be his pet again.

Hastur thought he’d better be extra nice to her now, to make up for upsetting her earlier. “What do you want? I'll look after you pretty pet, tell me what you want" he asked. "Wanna cum" she admitted. He was exultant, after all that she still wanted him "my slutty little pet, you want me to play with you? Course I'll make you cum pet". "I hurt too much" she added and he replied "don't worry pet, you'll be all healed up and cumming for me very soon". He wanted to ask her something too. He'd had an idea he really wanted to try out, but needed her willing agreement. He hoped he hadn’t spoilt things, hoped that now he’d agreed to respect her boundaries she would be ok with it. He really wanted her to be ok. He wouldn’t be a demon if he didn’t try to push it anyway, she knew that, couldn’t hold it against him. He decided to heal the injuries before asking her anything, she’d be more willing to agree if she wasn’t in pain he reasoned.

He stroked her bottom, repairing the internal damage and gently ran his hand down her thighs healing the scratches. Then he hovered his hands gently over her back healing the welts and the scratches there too. With the pain gone she seemed calmer. He continued stroking her thigh and asked “Is that nice pet?” She virtually purred her agreement. He took a breath, this was it he thought, no easy way to put it, he needed to be explicit. He said in his most reassuring, coaxing voice “next time I let Ligur fuck you I want him to use your arse so I can fuck your cunt at the same time. You’d like two of us at once wouldn’t you my little demon slut? All filled up with demon cock, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” She wasn’t sure so said sulkily “don't know, told you I don’t want you to hurt me like that”. He answered soothingly, still stroking her “we won’t hurt you pet, we’ll be so gentle, just want both of us to cum in you together, you want to be a good demon slut for us don’t you pet?” She said “I ’spose so” in a small, quiet voice. Hastur didn’t think this was enough, thought he’d better reassure her some more, ask again to make sure she really was ok this time. “Good pet, you’re so good, my pretty little demon slut, don’t forget you can make it stop whenever you want, just say your word, but we won’t hurt you, no pain at all, we’ll make it so nice for you. Tell me you’ll let us use you pet, say 'yes' for me". She was reassured and soothed by his words so answered ‘yes’ more confidently. Hastur was amazed by her, she really was too good for him, he suddenly wanted very much to make her happy, make it up to her, let her know how much he appreciated her.

He turned her so she was lying on her back and sat himself between her legs. Putting his hands under her knees he pushed her legs up and bent down to apply his mouth to her pussy. His preliminary licks were slightly rough, swirling his tongue round, tasting her hungrily. She breathed in sharply and flinched slightly so the next passes were more gentle. His tongue felt impossibly long as he wiggled it around the whole area and into her wet cunt. That felt so much better. She relaxed, starting to really enjoy the sensation. He pulled back and she could feel his hot breath on her before he leant in to taste her again. At first his delicate licks seemed at random, but as he continued he centred in on her clit bringing his hand round to put one finger in her, rapidly followed by a second. She felt his tongue lapping at her and felt a slight sucking too. His fingers worked busily curling round inside her. She groaned as it felt like she was starting to float, pushing her hips into him as he sucked and licked her. As he had said, it wasn’t long before she was cumming, throwing her head back with a cry as her orgasm washed over her.

Hastur smiled down at her, looking pleased with himself. She said sleepily “that was nice, beautiful evil demon, you can be nice”. She thought about what he'd asked her to do. She'd got his promise there'd be no pain. So two demons fucking her and it would be purely pleasurable, both of them working to make sure she enjoyed it as much as they did. The more she thought about it the more she wanted it. Hastur telling the other demon what he could do with her, how he should fuck her, treating her as his property, his demon slut. She imagined what it would feel like to have their hands on her body, touching her, holding her. She would be helpless, filled by them, used to satisfy their lust and she would enjoy it, enjoy making both of them cum together. It sounded so hot. She suddenly thought she'd better clarify, make sure it would be what she wanted. She said "Hastur" then stopped, a bit embarrassed at what she was going to say. He looked at her quizzically so she continued, getting her request out all in a rush, blushing as she did so: "with Ligur there will you call me your demon slut, tell him how to touch me, tie me up, get me to beg?" Hastur's eyes seemed to widen even further until she gazed up into pure black. He virtually growled at her "oh yes my little demon slut, if that's what you want, you'll be so wet, all tied up, helpless and desperate, begging us to fuck you" at this point his voice trailed off into an actual growl full of lust. She lay back, feeling happy again and fell asleep without further comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I went through a few iterations of this scenario, some quite a bit more extreme. I didn't want to push it over into non-con as that's wrong for this part of the story (and character relationship), but wanted to make a point about communication and informed consent. Nothing against the contract here, but it didn't go well - should/could Hastur have been expected to notice or is this Lenore failing to use the safe-word when she should? Interested to hear views on it.
> 
> Hopefully the end result manages to still make the point without anyone getting too badly hurt and, importantly, is still an enjoyable read. They're both happy and full of lustful anticipation by the end at least ;)
> 
> ....although they'll have to wait a while as quite a lot is about to happen.....


	23. Demons in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur annoys Lenore, but it’s all in a good cause - he has an unorthodox way of being ‘nice’ but it works.
> 
> We get the branding in this chapter too - plus Lenore puts some thought into the relationship, but doesn’t really get very far.
> 
> Finally there’s a bit more of the pit demons who reveal yet more about Hell’s inner workings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this feels like a waffle chapter, wanted to set the scene for some developments later on and re-introduce the original demon characters - it also provides a more gradual move away from the very intimate previous chapter to some action focused ones.

Waking early the next morning Lenore felt lazy, her limbs heavy, but her mind was very active, thoughts that she couldn’t quite latch onto whirling around her head. She remembered the meeting the night before and reluctantly got up to see to the clearing up. Taking a quick shower she grabbed some clothes to go into the washer-dryer and went to the kitchen, first putting the load on to wash before going to face the library. She had dismissed the staff as soon as Lord C had died, giving them generous redundancy. She still thought it was the right thing to do, but at this very moment she missed having a couple of morning cleaners to magic the mess of last night’s party away before she got up.

There was a slight smell of burnt matches as she came up from the kitchen, nothing too strong, until she opened the library door. The smell hit the back of her throat; it was acrid and seemed to burn as she breathed in. She thought back to the fire at the country house and panic started to rise. Smoke was trailing out into the hallway, but not enough to indicate a major fire. Thinking logically she remembered there was an extinguisher in the library so got a scarf from the cloakroom and wrapped it around her mouth and nose, taking a deep breath in before opening the door again. The library had a miasma of yellowish smoke and a strong smell of sulphur, even breathing through the scarf. She only got halfway across the room before she saw Charu and Xaphan sat either side of the desk diligently working on some files.

They looked sheepish as she coughed and spluttered and made waving motions towards the fire-place sending the smoke up the chimney and clearing the air somewhat. Charu was the first to speak “Hastur said we should help tidy up, but you wasn’t here, fire was nearly out so we got it going again”. She scowled saying “this is a smoke control area, you’ll get environmental protection after me, you're only meant to burn the special fuel”. They looked perturbed, Xaphan waving frantically at the fire and seeming to suck smoke back from the chimney and into her own mouth. “We didn’t know, we got sulphur from the pits, it’s cold in here” Charu explained. She grabbed his hand and walked him towards the door, saying over her shoulder to Xaphan, "take the sulphur away it’s not suitable".

Keeping a tight grip on Charu’s hand she led him through the drawing room and out into the garden. Lenore then took him down some stairs to the kitchen yard and showed him the coal bin directing him to fill a large iron bucket and led him back through the kitchen up to the library. When they got there she said crossly: “there, use this, and bring the stuff from the tables down to the kitchen afterwards” she added indicating the glasses and bowls. Lenore stomped out of the library and back down to the kitchen, taking pleasure in noisily grinding coffee beans as a harmless outlet for her anger. Hastur had sent demons up to her house, without asking or even warning her, they'd filled the library with sulphur and people would probably see the smoke for miles. Damn Hastur, ’yeah, yeah he’s damned already’ she thought, but she’d damn him twice over this.

Charu turned up a few minutes later, laden with glasses and bowls and looking worried “we was only trying to help” he said in a whine. She took pity on him “it’s not your fault, going to be having words with his Disgrace though, my library is not an extension of his bloody office, he shouldn’t be sending you lot up here to work without even telling me”. This did not help matters as Charu looked even more wretched “don’t blame Hastur, he was only trying to help, s'not his fault”. She sighed heavily, “looks like they were right when they said the road to Hell is paved with good intentions”, then added “well, as long as you’re here you might as well actually help”. She showed him how the sink worked and had to explain what washing up liquid was. Lenore took charge of the punch-bowl, not wanting the delicate antique damaged, but left him alone with the glasses and other bowls. He clearly didn’t like hot soapy water and was desperately trying not to get any on his hands while attempting to clean the glasses. He obviously didn’t want to upset her again by complaining, but was not a happy demon. She passed him some marigold gloves and suggested he put them on if he didn’t want his 'delicate little hands' messed up by the water. He giggled at the idea of his hands being delicate showing her the criss-cross of multiple scars across the backs and his lumpy curved fingers, before slyly putting the gloves on and looking much relieved.

Her good humour was returning as she watched the triple-horned demon, wearing bright yellow marigolds, carefully washing glasses. Xaphan turned up, also looking sheepish, to say she'd sorted the fire out and the library was now smoke free. She then hopped about in the background until Lenore put a glasses cloth in her hand and instructed her on polishing the glasses after they were dried. The set complete she carefully put them away in the cupboard. “Well, do you want coffee?” Lenore asked. The demons looked nonplussed. She made a large pot and poured them a cup each pointing out sugar and milk if they wanted to add it. Both sniffed at the cups suspiciously, Charu asking if it had any alcohol in it. She replied in the negative and he looked so put-out she offered to add a tot of brandy for him. Xaphan looked wistful at this and she offered her the same. They experimented with the milk, drinking direct from the bottle; then with the sugar, sticking a wetted finger in to taste it. Both demons added liberal quantities of sugar to their coffee, but no milk. They went back up to the library and she studiously ignored them while picking up her own files to resume work.

This was how Hastur found them: working quietly in an immaculate, smoke free, library while drinking coffee. She signalled him to follow her out into the hall and asked him what in Heaven’s name he thought he was doing sending multiple demons up to her library without telling her. His answer surprised her “thought it best for your protection pet, anyone following the trail would see they’d been up here last night. If Nergal’s lot came investigating and found you on your own they might kill you, or worse. Kind of thought maybe they could stay here as a sort of guard, look after you”. That was sweet and thoughtful and she felt guilty for damning him in her head. It was also worrying. She asked “do you really think Nergal would send investigators here?” He said he wasn’t sure, but best not to take chances, ‘Loyalty and Justice’ were everywhere. If he could square it with the committee that her library was a designated working space then it would get around any questions.

She was reluctant to officially hand over part of the house to Hell, but could see his logic. This whole thing seemed to be spiralling out of control and she didn’t think there was anything she could do about it. She’d signed a contract - admittedly not knowing what the consequences might be, but it didn’t seem likely she could challenge it now. She also felt she should keep an eye on Hastur, he was charging into this head first and it felt dangerous. Having demons in her library might not be ideal(!) but at least she could ensure she kept in touch with what Hastur was doing through them. In the end she agreed, but stipulated only two demons at a time (apart from him and Ligur), not wanting unknown quantities of demons coming and going as they pleased. She said she would prefer the ones she had at least met before, not minding the presence of Charu or Brontes, or even Xaphan or Kevin, but being less keen on others she didn’t know. She told him Charu and Xaphan had filled the house with sulphur smoke and potentially brought environmental protection down on her. He used the same excuse as the other demons: ‘they were only trying to help’ but did look contrite, even if he didn't apologise outright. They went back into the library and she couldn’t help but notice the looks from the two horned demons. They seemed jittery and worried in case there had been a fight, but Hastur’s demeanour appeared to reassure them.

Hastur was otherwise irrepressibly happy, apparently he’d got sign off from the committee to put his mark on her. As there was still a bucket of sulphur in the corner he proposed doing it there and then. He co-opted Charu into helping him as he said the ritual needed two. She was a little reluctant, saying she’d expected Ligur to be involved: as Hastur had said he could ‘almost trust him’ she thought letting Ligur help would be safer than letting an unknown demon loose on her. At least Ligur wouldn’t want to upset Hastur, so might be expected to be careful. However, nothing was going to stop Hastur now he’d got the sign off. She gave in to him, as always, she supposed that’s what the ‘L word’ did to you. It wasn’t something she’d considered before, there had been no love in her marriage, although it had taken meeting Hastur to fully realise it. She’d had brief relationships before that of course, and had fun along the way, but nothing as intense as this. It was pretty amazing when she thought about it, like she was on a roller-coaster hurtling out of control: so exhilarating. Colours were brighter, everything seemed more real but more unreal at the same time, like the world had suddenly sped up, turning into a place full of magic and wonder before her eyes. She was getting nightmares a lot and finding sleep problematic, but it was worth it for the rush. She felt free and happy for the first time ever, it was exciting.

Shaking her head Lenore stopped her introspection and sensibly suggested the kitchen would be a more suitable place for a branding: less flammable and with better ventilation. She also pointed out that the inside of her wrist was a bad place to choose - the skin was thin and the area small. Hastur agreed, then eyed her greedily saying: "where shall I damage you, which bit of you shall I stain and corrupt". Lenore giggled "very melodramatic sweetheart" and kissed him. Charu looked shocked. She suggested the inside of her arm just below the elbow, which met with approval from both demons.

The process seemed to involve some weird sounding chants and a template of the symbol being drawn on in blood before the burning process could begin. Hastur calmly took out his knife and sliced an area on the back of his hand, dipping a brush in and painting on her carefully with his dark, nearly black blood. Charu held her arm steady and Hastur heated metal implements using hell-fire before coating them with Hell's finest sulphur. She was obviously scared and he hastened to reassure her. "S'ok pet, you managed worse than this last time. Bet you don't even scream". Charu looked at him strangely saying "you screamed, why wouldn't she?" Hastur looked slightly abashed, then laughed, saying "scream if you need to pet" before applying the first tool to her arm. The symbol was done in several parts and she did scream a little, but not until it was nearly over. She also felt a little nauseous and light-headed, but thought the pain was bearable. Hastur kissed her forehead saying "well done pet, you're all mine now", which made her smile. She took out a first-aid kit and Hastur helped her bandage her arm.

Charu offered to get drinks and headed up to the library. They followed, but Hastur stopped at the top of the stairs and pushed her against the wall with some force "you’re ok aren’t you?" he wanted to know. She shrugged saying "yeah, fine at the moment, I’d tell you if I wasn’t". He looked at her with a strange intensity "make sure you do, you matter to me" he said quietly. He very nearly ran from her into the library to avoid any further conversation. She thought he probably needed to work on being nice to her: inviting multiple demons into the library, branding her, then nearly concussing her on the wall wasn’t a normal definition of caring. She still felt happy. Even the burning pain was nice in a weird way. She felt a glow inside, repeating to herself that she mattered to him.

Hastur was already regretting his words. It was one thing to encourage her when he wanted to hurt her, but this had been different. His words had come unprepared and were unexpected even to him. He admitted that he was concerned about her, didn't want her killed or tormented by Nergal's demons, but that didn't mean he had to tell her. He just hoped she wouldn't realise the significance, humans should never 'matter' to demons. They certainly shouldn't tell them so anyway. He hadn't even told Ligur how much he mattered and they were as close as any demons could be. Well, he reassured himself, she wouldn't understand so it would be ok. He could always deny he'd said it if it ever came up.

Back in the library her arm was really starting to hurt, the pain pulsing hotly. Apparently it had to be kept dry for at least the first 24 hours to ‘let the sulphur set’, otherwise she would have taken the bandage off and plunged it into cold water to try to get some relief from the pain. Hastur recommended lots of alcohol saying he'd been drunk for months after the fall. Not a bad idea, but the thought of waking up with a hangover and the pain in her arm made her refrain from drinking too much. He was positively gloating over her now, telling Charu and Xaphan she was his pet human and how she was so good for him. She replied testily “I’m your P.A. Hastur - that’s what the contract says - I’m only your pet by choice remember?” He looked a little chastened, but didn’t stop acting in a clearly proprietorial way in front of the other demons. She huffed at him, but he looked so happy she hadn’t the heart to stay cross. She did roll her eyes at Charu behind Hastur’s back, just to show what she really thought though. Charu did his best to hide a smile, while still looking scandalised at her behaviour.

Hastur and Xaphan left about lunchtime, leaving just her and Charu in the library working silently. It became clear he wanted to talk - he kept looking at her, then away again as soon as she made eye contact. She asked him what it was and he asked “what’s the thing with you and Hastur?” She wasn’t sure what he meant and got him to expand “I mean, he says you’re his pet, uses torments on you and stuff, but you don’t act like he owns you. You were going to shout at him, and he didn't set fire to you, and you called him a weird name and kissed him. He's got you marked as a demon doing Hell's work, but you're human. None of it makes sense”. She didn't really understand it either. Hastur had just arrived in her world like a whirlwind and she’d let herself be blown along. She corrected herself, she’d been the one taking the lead really hadn’t she? Maybe she could tell Charu she’d seduced Hastur, the thought amused her and she tried to imagine his reaction, hiding a smile as she did so. How could she explain it though? Lenore started out by saying “it’s complicated” and then stopped, puzzled. She continued slowly “I got a contract to work for him, everything else just kinda happened” by way of excuse she added “he is very attractive, those eyes...." she sighed, her train of thought derailed momentarily. Charu looked at her as if she was mad, asking tentatively “this is our Hastur you’re talking about right? Hastur from the pits?” Lenore nodded, then concluded lamely "I like him I guess”. Charu looked very confused. She could almost hear the cogs turning in his brain as he tried to work it out. He started slowly, as if he was feeling his way into unknown territory “well, I mean, I suppose we all like Hastur in the pits y'know, old Hast, he's one of us, and you are a member now....” He stopped, looking confused again. She didn’t know what to say, so decided to distract him by asking what he was working on instead. 

Charu seemed very happy to change the subject. Apparently he was writing up preliminary examinations on demons accused of crimes. She was curious and asked about the process - it sounded complicated. Preliminary examinations were held with the accuser and accused with one or two witnesses a piece. There was any number of Judges, usually five, but could be less, could be more. Everyone seemed able to question everyone else, with a demon from the pits trying to keep order and notes at the same time. Once the preliminary hearing was adjourned the Judges went into conclave to see if they could reach a verdict, if so it was put to both sides and, if they accepted it, moved to sentencing or dismissal. If one or other side disputed the findings it was handed over to the torments teams to ‘question’ everyone thoroughly before trial and write up the case. This appeared to involve actual torments ‘to make sure they remember properly’. Most cases were prosecuted by ‘Loyalty and Justice’ who Charu seemed reluctant to say much about.

Each side had one of the pit demons assigned to help present the case and to speak for them at the trial. Trials were conducted in the pits, but occasionally were sent to Council if the pits couldn’t reach a satisfactory conclusion - or if the trial was sufficiently important. Trials going to the Council seemed to be the exception and Charu said the last time it had necessitated the building of a special court room. There were a lot of other formalities in the background with trials only being held on certain days and different rights for the accused and accuser to request information from the other side, or for witness statements to be given in confidence direct to Judges and a whole host of other things she didn’t follow. The demons seemed to spend inordinate amounts of time on internal trials, taking it incredibly seriously. Crimes ranged from understandable things like unauthorised discorporations, or misuse of miracles through to the downright bizarre - wearing a hat in the committee room on the wrong day, or whistling too loudly in the corridors. Demonic justice seemed fiendishly complicated. Charu was very proud of the whole process though. He said he’d been on the original working group with Hastur tasked with inventing the system. Apparently heaven never had anything like it so they’d had to make it all up from scratch. He admitted the ‘rules’ had got a little out of hand over the centuries, especially since ‘Loyalty and Justice’ had got involved. However, they were clearly set out for any demon to read: in a book or scroll or something, stored somewhere or other, he wasn’t quite sure where, but the important thing was that it was ‘fair’ - no-one was sentenced without due process.

They worked through until late afternoon when she made some sandwiches and tea, which Charu wasn’t keen on, so she got him wine instead. He looked at the wine glass and asked the same question Hastur had about why she had different glasses. With a sigh of resignation she gave the him the same explanation, she thought it was humans who were meant to be the curious ones. Xaphan turned up again shortly after and Charu disappeared off saying he was needed in the pits. It looked like they were babysitting her in shifts. At about nine she asked Xaphan if she wanted dinner and ended up ordering pizza as she couldn't be bothered to cook. Xaphan liked pizza, a lot, and ate most of it leaving Lenore to scavenge the few remaining slices. She did a bit of tidying up and put away the washing, pottering around, not keen on doing more work and not wanting to try making conversation with Xaphan, who seemed engaged in her own paperwork. She realised she was waiting for Hastur, but as it got later it seemed unlikely he was about to turn up, so she reluctantly went to bed.


	24. House of Unreason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are really starting to happen now - but where is Hastur? Ligur knows and is concerned - can Lenore help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major plot kicking off here - this will take a few chapters to work through as a lot happens in a short space of time. Going to post the next chapter along with this one as they follow on from each other - I don’t know whether all these linked chapters should be put together into single longer ones, or if they’re better separated. Hello learning curve!

There was still no sign of Hastur the next morning, but Charu was back in the library. She tried to settle to watch a film, but failed. Flicking between channels and not finding anything she wanted to watch for longer than few minutes. Feeling restless she went out to the shop at the bottom of the road and picked up some croissants and pain au chocolat for brunch. Loading a tray from the kitchen with the goodies and some jams, coffee, milk and sugar she took it up to the library. Charu seemed pleased to see her. He liked the sweet food and they ate together, while he told her about the case he was working on - one about stationery theft, apparently the fair distribution of stationery was taken very seriously in Hell.

They worked quietly for the rest of the afternoon and it wasn't until early evening that they heard the air crackling in a familiar way, heralding the arrival of another demon. Lenore hoped it was Hastur. It was Ligur. He looked grim, well even more grim than usual. "It's starting" he said simply. Charu asked "what's happened" and Lenore said at the same time "where's Hastur".

You'd normally say Ligur looked worried or nervous, scared even; except he deliberately didn't do any of those undemonic emotional things, so he just looked 'grim'. He said "word is he's being 'interviewed for promotion' at the House of Unreason". This all sounded very portentous, but surely a promotion was good wasn't it? Lenore was lost. "What's that mean?" She asked. "House of Unreason is the official offices of the Demon’s Commissariat for Infernal Affairs and the Promotion of Loyalty and Justice" Ligur explained. Except this didn't really explain anything. Lenore looked lost. He tried again "it's Nergal's lot, 'interviewed for promotion' means torments, unofficial torments. They say it's a security measure, test a demon's worthiness for high office, 'cept no-one ever passes the test and once you’re in you don’t come out. Unless it’s for execution". Oh. That was bad.

"Why can't he just say 'no thanks', turn down the promotion?" She was thinking out loud, and clearly not thinking very well judging by the high-pitched squeal of almost-but-not-quite laughter Charu gave out. Ligur growled "don't work like that, they do things in there, drive you out of your mind. It’s not called the House of Unreason for nothing" and Charu added in a low, urgent hiss "rumour is they use 'holy' things. No one gets out". Demon or not, Charu sounded scared.

Ligur continued, "heard they've got others too, ones who would have stood against Nergal. Kevin said they wanted sign off on The Boss being ill, needing a break, looks like they’re getting ready to take over". Lenore asked "so how do we get Hastur out?" Ligur looked at her as if she was stupid "you don't, ain't possible to escape from the House of Unreason. Only way out is being found guilty and executed - otherwise you just disappear. No one ever passes interview, just doesn't happen". More static and fizzes, all three looked round concerned, but it was only Xaphan and Brontes. Xaphan said immediately "human, we got others we need to bring here, s'that ok?" Ligur looked shocked "why you asking her?", but Lenore just nodded and, a few more fizzes later, the library was full.

The crowd of demons were lectured by Charu and Xaphan - this was ‘Hastur’s P.A.’ they said indicating Lenore, explaining she was in charge until Hastur got back; and it was her house so no fires without her say so. There were questions about a human being ‘in charge’, but Charu quashed them saying “she’s one of us, she’s a member and Hastur says she’s important”. Ligur eyed Lenore suspiciously during this exchange and muttered to himself “important, humph”.

She wondered when Hastur had told them she was important. She felt a rush of affection towards him. He really could be nice. Leaving these thoughts aside she indicated the demons should make themselves at home, then, remembering they were demons, added "not too at home". The demons buzzed around finding chairs from the dining room and helping themselves to biscuits from the kitchen and brandy and port from the decanters. They drank from tea cups or mugs and were all trying to talk at once. Lenore was feeling sick with worry and getting a headache from all the demonic chatter. She told Charu to keep the other demons in order and went upstairs to take tablets and think.

When she came back down a couple of hours later it was to cut across the general chatter with a suggestion "why can't we summon Hastur?". "Demons can't summon demons" Brontes said dismissively, but Ligur was looking at her speculatively. She went on "I'm not a demon remember? Summoned him before". The next objection was about the exchange 'they won't connect you'. Apparently even if you wanted to summon a particular demon you needed to go through the ‘exchange’. The exchange would connect you to the first available demon, but if you requested a specific one by name they could put you through direct, but didn’t like doing it. “If he’s in the House they’ll just give you whoever, could get anyone - it’s too dangerous”. Ligur cut in "she's got his sigil, do it direct, cut out the exchange, she did it before". The demons were impressed and none could think of a reason not to try it, although Brontes said "probably won't work, probably got him insulated".

It didn't take her long to pull back the carpet and chalk out a circle. As she started on the symbols one of the demons voiced doubts about whether a comfy, well lit library would be suitable. The rest shushed him "don't matter where you do it, long as it's done right" said Ligur throwing himself into a chair and taking no further part in proceedings. Lenore carried on with the preparations, suggesting some of the demons went to the drawing room to give her more space. "What do you draw in there?" Xaphan asked. "Nothing, it's the 'with'-drawing room, y'know, where you 'withdraw' to after dinner". She explained. They obviously didn't know what she meant, but Charu shooed them out anyway. "Grab us a bottle of brandy from the wine cellar while you’re out - it’s just off the kitchen" she shouted after him, then started the ritual.

For the first time since Hastur had taken up with the human Ligur was truly happy about it. She could potentially do something he couldn't: get Hastur out. Lenore rolled up her sleeves as she worked and he noted the bandage, guessing Hastur had got his way and had her branded with his symbol. Strangely enough he didn't mind any more. If she managed to get him out Hastur could keep her, and he wouldn't even think about objecting. If she could get him out. If she couldn't then he would kill her; slowly. What had happened wasn't her fault, but he would take it out on her anyway. Someone would have to suffer and it might as well be her. He didn't care about the coup, didn't care about Nergal or Loyalty and Justice, he only cared about Hastur. So he willed Hastur's pet on, daring to hope she could succeed. Hope wasn't a demonic thing, neither was caring, so he sat quietly, watching through half open eyes, trying to pretend this didn't matter to him so very, very much.

Soon the crackle of static started, making the remaining demons uncomfortable. They were jittery anyway, convinced it wouldn't work and worried who Hell would send if/when she got it wrong. Ligur threw them out, leaving just Lenore, himself, Charu and Brontes. The circle started glowing faintly and Ligur said in hushed tones "that's the connection established". Next thing they saw was a huddled shape in the centre, it was curled up in a defensive ball with what looked like white rags wrapped very tightly around its ankles and wrists. After a couple of tense moments they identified it as Hastur. He was cover in blood and wasn't moving.

Lenore broke the circle feeling the static clear "good, stop anyone following him up" Ligur approved. They went to examine him. Not a pretty sight. His clothes were virtually gone, a few rags of his shirt and trousers remained, but even these were cut about. He seemed covered in welts, burns and cuts, some of them still bleeding. Ligur hissed as he touched the white bindings pulling his hand back as if he'd been burnt. "Blessed" he confirmed. Not being a demon Lenore had no problems in untying and removing them. She put them carefully to one side. When Charu suggested throwing them on the fire she said "no, they may come in useful later". He looked confused, but Ligur nodded approvingly.

Ligur grabbed up Hastur as soon as the blessed bindings were removed. He swept the papers off the tables and placed him carefully on top, growling aggressively when Lenore tried to get close. A lot of the injuries disappeared as he gently examined him, but not all. Hastur started returning to a more natural colour, but was still smeared with quantities of dark demonic blood. He suddenly flew backwards off the table with a shriek, taking up a defensive stance and eyeing them warily. It took a few seconds for him to realise where he was. Then he grinned looking from Ligur to Lenore who grinned back saying "summoned you, sorry if you were in the middle of something important". Ligur looked scandalised, but Hastur laughed. He took a few steps, giving up quickly "might have to carry me" he said as he leant on the table. Between them Ligur and Brontes got him into a chair and Ligur reluctantly let Lenore come over to examine him.

"The rest won't heal with miracles, gotta wait for them to mend naturally" Ligur said his voice breaking slightly. "Burns was holy water" Hastur said in a weirdly happy sounding voice. The demons looked horrified. There were indeed some nasty burns and a large cut on his shoulder that was bleeding alarmingly now he was up and moving. "Think they were waiting for me to bleed out, or have all my energy destroyed by the holy bindings. Not seen any of ‘em for a few hours anyway” Hastur explained. He still wasn't exactly sure what had happened, one minute he'd been talking to one of the other Dukes, trying to subtlety sound them out about Nergal, next minute he'd woken up in a torments room. Not even a decent one either. He deplored the state of it, floor covered in dirt and grit, implements not properly displayed, restraint equipment poorly maintained with rust on the buckles. Shoddy he called it. No pride in the work. He'd tried to explain this to the first demon who came in. He'd seen the crowbar, then things had gone dark again. After that he had been in and out of consciousness, always in pain. The holy water had been a shock. Even demons didn't usually stoop that low, hurt though. He had to admit they'd done a decent job of the actual torments. Hadn't asked any questions though, which was odd. He was feeling light headed again. Best stop thinking for now.

Lenore took charge "Charu go to the kitchen. The first aid box is in the walk-in cupboard it’s got a green cross painted on the side, get it and grab some of the cloths too". He ran off as she got a large decorative sewing box from the far side of the fire. Talking out the scissors she proceeded to cut away the remains of Hastur’s tattered shirt and trousers. "Steady on pet, not in a fit state for that kinda thing" he grinned again. She shushed him saying "need to see what we're working with". He wasn't as bad as she'd feared. The remaining marks were mainly burns, burns over skin already horribly scarred from previous burns, which struck her as particularly cruel. The cut on his shoulder was a major worry though, it was bleeding very heavily, blood dripping down his arm. Assuming demons were similar to humans he would probably collapse from blood loss unless it was dealt with soon.

When Charu returned with the box and tea-towels she got out a large dressing pad and held it in place with a tea-towel, twisting the ends to apply pressure. She lifted his arm above his head. Ligur was hovering nearby and looked anxious to help, so she got him to hold Hastur’s arm up and the twisted towel tight. “Hold it there, hopefully the bleeding will stop, or at least reduce the flow, I’ll have a proper look later”. She then started examining the burns, but Hastur stopped her "they got Dagon, heard her screaming, have to try summoning her too - her sigil is on my paperwork".

Lenore didn't argue going back to the circle and renewing the marks. She shuffled through a pile of papers finding one where Dagon had scrawled her sigil and looked doubtfully at it. "This isn't going to be easy, anyone got a clearer copy?" Charu, eager to help, rushed out to ask the other demons returning with a very young looking demon with a pinky-white complexion and pure white eyes. She drew a perfectly clear version of Dagon's sigil muttering "don't ask how I know how to do that" and scarpered back to the drawing room as soon as she'd finished. Sigil added Lenore began a second summoning ritual. The crackle came again, followed by the light and she held her breath waiting to see what turned up. It was Dagon. Far less damaged than Hastur but with the same white bindings cutting into her shimmering scaly skin. Circle scuffed and bindings removed it became clear she was very, very angry. Ligur explained the summoning and she nodded briefly at Lenore before trying to pull Ligur away to talk to him. He was reluctant to leave, but Hastur shooed him away grabbing the twisted towel himself "go sort this out, need someone with some brains to stop this blessed coup" he instructed Ligur, who reluctantly left with Brontes and Dagon. Charu mumbled about getting Kevin who arrived soon after, taking charge of the bandage.

Lenore began examining the burns. They were mostly quite small, but multiple and some were very deep. Hastur said “they dripped it on me, rolling around with the pain of it I was, screaming in agony, very nasty” he seemed to be revelling in the attention now he was safe. The burns were covered with dust or grit presumably from him rolling on the floor. She began by taking antiseptic wipes and warning him "going to hurt now sweetheart", which he thought very funny. He winced as she wiped the areas clean, finally squealing when she had to dig out some more ground in bits of grit. She shushed him saying "nearly over, try and stay still", again he thought it was funny saying "you're stealing my best lines pet". Finally she applied cream and stuck dressing pads to the worst of them with zinc oxide tape.

When she turned to look at his shoulder he shook his head, "nothing to be done with that. It'll take months to knit. If it doesn’t kill me first. Used a blessed blade, took a leaf outta your book pet, woulda been worse if I hadn't rolled away at the right moment". Lenore ignored him, not wanting to think about what would have happened if he hadn't rolled away. She carefully unwrapped the towel and took a quick look under the dressing pad before saying "needs stitches". Stitches seemed to be a new concept to the demons. They weren't convinced until she showed them a scar she'd got after stitches, the white line crossed with other thinner scars. She explained it held the edges together to help it knit sooner. Hastur agreed to try it.

She muttered something about fishing line throwing out as she left "and someone get him a bloody drink, a large one". She came back with a big bowl of hot water, some fluffy white towels and cotton wool. The sewing box yielded a curved leather-needle, which she took to the fire holding it over the flames. Laying a towel over Hastur and one over the arm of the chair she eyed him speculatively. "How are you with pain?" He shrugged saying "I'll be ok". "Not what I mean, stitches will hurt and you have to stay still, do you need to be held down?" He looked a bit embarrassed saying "I reckon so". She sent Kevin to get someone strong enough to hold him. Hastur said "Brontes". She continued preparations, soaking cotton wool in medical alcohol and wiping the line, threading the needle and laying out antiseptic wipes and cotton pads on a nearby table, ready for use.

Hastur drank brandy, shivering slightly, watching what she was doing. He was reminded of torments again, 'showing the prisoner the instruments', proper protocol that. Sitting in his underwear made him feel vulnerable, knowing there was a strong demon on hand to hold him in place made him apprehensive and her organised preparations were making him jittery. All this was typical for the run up to torments, when they were done properly anyway. He appreciated the ritual, even if he’d prefer it to be someone else taking his place. She was calm and methodical, not even looking at him, as if this was just another job to her. Good technique he thought. He wondered what she'd be like doing real torments, seemed to show promise anyway.

Preparations made, she directed the two demons to hold him in place and told him to put the glass down, worrying he might break it inadvertently. She worked quickly but didn't try to rush, cleaning the area with hot water and antiseptic before she started. It was obviously going to hurt, but shouldn't have been too painful compared to what he'd gone through already. Hastur, however, made a terrific wailing noise almost immediately, bringing Ligur and a few of the other demons running. They stood in the doorway watching as Lenore calmly continued, wiping away the blood with cotton pads as she went. At one point she growled irritably at Brontes when he allowed Hastur to move his arm a fraction: "If you can't hold him get someone who can". He held on tighter. Hastur was impressed, she didn't seem to show any compassion, totally ignoring the fuss he was making, only interested in keeping him still so she could work on him. He glanced over to Ligur, who stood in the doorway looking worried. Hastur winked at him and he gave a quick smile in return before heading back out to the drawing room.

Once she'd finished the stitches she used antiseptic wipes again. She was surprised that her only emotion throughout had been one of mild irritation at the fuss Hastur was making. She hadn’t squealed like that when she’d had stitches. Admittedly her stitches had been over a smaller area and with a surgical sewing needle, which had probably been much sharper, but he had made a terrific noise. He’d apparently been subjected to real torments in Hell and she knew what you had to go through to get a membership disc for the pit club, but he was acting as if he didn’t have any tolerance for pain. Either he was making a fuss deliberately or…she stopped there, as the alternative was that he did have a poor tolerance to pain and had been really suffering throughout. Lenore preferred the former option than thinking of her poor Hastur screaming in real pain as a result of her actions. She comforted herself by remembering that it had been necessary, even if it had hurt him, he might have bled to death otherwise. Although she wasn’t sure if that could even happen to demons. She stood back to look at the finished work. Hastur looked too, interested in the result: "very neat" he approved. The demons in the doorway murmured their appreciation too. Hastur's approval didn't last long though, as he looked down at the rest of his body and exclaimed: "you've covered me in sodding clean patches". She ignored this and got a large dressing pad and crepe bandage to a fix it in place. "Done" she confirmed. "don't do anything too strenuous or you might rip the stitches".


	25. Passed The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our (anti)hero has got out of the House - what now? Dagon rages and the other demons look on. Decisive action seems to be called for but what, and how do they take it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We follow the plot further down the rabbit hole - things are definitely happening. Another chapter with a fair amount of action. None of this is remotely supported by the book/TV show but I enjoyed a bit of pure invention….

Hastur wanted to join the others, but Lenore pointed out mildly that he was only wearing his, very grubby, underpants. He tried to wrap himself in the towels, ending up looking very odd so she offered to look for spare clothes. Lenore had disposed of all Lord C's stuff shortly after his death, not wanting any trace of him left in the house, but thought the attic storage areas would have something. They did: a jumbled selection of odds and ends, but serviceable and some probably in Hastur's size. He ended up in a white shirt with big voluminous sleeves, a tight black waistcoat of the Regency style with a double row of silver buttons and silver thread embroidery, tight black riding beeches and long boots. Hastur seemed very much less than grateful with the gifts, although he admitted it was better than swanning round in towels and his underpants. He declined a high, starched collar and black silk cravat, thinking these a step too far despite Lenore’s urgings. Nonetheless she thought he looked 'beautiful', 'dashing', 'handsome' and many other words like that. He was embarrassed and kissed her, mainly to shut her up. Then stalked out to find the others, Lenore in his wake.

He followed the sound of Dagon's voice to the drawing room. She was raging and trying to rally the demons to storm the House of Unreason. Ligur was looking uncomfortable, the others nonplussed, whispering and taking the odd pause in Dagon’s rant as a chance to put their own thoughts forward. Everyone was trying to get their voice heard, it was chaos. As they came in Xaphan, who's head seemed to be glued to an old fashioned radio, interjected across the general hubbub "they've just announced it" after receiving looks of confusion she clarified "The Boss is ill, certificate signed by Barbas, 'resting' apparently, they say it's short term, in the interim Nergal is taking charge. Beelzebub is also 'indisposed' so the committee is out of action. They've got a new committee, called sommat about 'Continuity and Stability' sitting at the Chambers. Something about time wasted on petty revenge plots, the distraction of Armageddon, rushing to end the world when they need to put Hell in order first. That's it, they're just playing music now". Everyone had stopped talking, stopped breathing even. Hastur broke the silence: "bollocks" he said eloquently.

The collected demons turned to look at Hastur. There were various reactions, those who'd seen his injuries were impressed he was up and walking, some looked askance at his new outfit. Dagon said "oh, you scrub up well" which caused him acute embarrassment and several demons to giggle. He glowered at them, a faint glow of hell-fire starting to show around his hands and the demons shut up. Lenore distracted attention, reminding them of their earlier plan to use the Hall of the Great Committee for a rallying point. She said they needed to get there asap. Ligur spoke up in a dismissive tone "How'd ya suggest we do that then? Can't summon 'em in reverse". Lenore's answer caused consternation "use the front entrance".

A chorus of objections - 'it'll be guarded', 'pit demons shouldn't be on earth, they’ll arrest us for sure', 'they'll know it's a plot'. She had answers for them. Shouting the demons down she said "no-one's going to be guarding against demons coming into Hell, and loyal demons returning home at a time of crisis, who in their right mind would stop you? No way that's a plot, it's what you should be doing surely, not poncing about up on earth when Hell needs you?" There were murmurs of agreement.

Hastur interjected "what about us eh?" Indicating himself and Dagon. "Escapees from the House of Unreason? Ain't gonna let us just waltz in". Again she had an answer "no-one gets out of the House of Unreason do they? Can't escape, it's not possible" The demons chimed their enthusiastic agreement. "So if you're out then it's because they let you out, stands to reason, or Unreason, whatever". A cautious agreement, "so if they let you out and you've not been executed then you must have passed the test" she concluded logically. Consternation: 'no-one ever passes the test' was the general cry. Lenore answered them "what's more likely: they escaped or they were let out?" The answer was a emphatic 'let out', "so if they were let out and there's no execution what else can it mean apart from they passed?" The demons were puzzled but started talking amongst themselves, they seemed to be convincing themselves that this was the only logical answer. Hastur and Dagon went into The House of Unreason and they'd been let out - because everyone knew escape was impossible - they weren't dead, so what else could it mean? Unexpectedly Brontes started a round of applause in honour of 'the only demons ever to pass the test'. It spread and some demons even cheered.

Ligur looked impressed. "Just gotta convince the rest of Hell now" was his only comment. Lenore said with a confidence she didn’t really feel: "Just announce it as fact. Turn up at the front entrance, with a group of cheering demons and start telling them what happened. Hell's rumour-mill will do the rest. They'll give you a triumphal procession to the Hall of the Great Committee".

It happened almost like she'd predicted. Hastur and Dagon leading a victory procession to the Hall, more demons joining as they went. The vindication of their process, proof their system worked, that demons could pass the test, made them jubilant. Hastur and Dagon were loyal, they'd passed: Hooray! They ran into problems at the Hall as it was surrounded by demons in uniform - “army” confirmed Ligur. The soldiers looked uncomfortable with a huge celebratory crowd of demons approaching. They had miracle-insulating vehicles, that Lenore decided were just tanks painted with various sigils, and weapons: big, sharp, dangerous looking weapons. Ligur stopped the procession. "Let me talk to 'em" he said and, grabbing Hastur and Dagon, headed towards what looked like the commander. Lenore tagged along behind them.

Ligur opened with the unexpected line of "alright Alan, what they got you doing now?" Obviously he knew the commander, seemed to know him quite well in fact. The conversation went like this:

Alan: "We bin told to guard the Hall”  
Ligur: "Guard it from what?"  
Alan: "Dunno, just guard it really"  
Ligur: "Looks like you're doing a great job"  
Alan: "Yeah, thanks"  
Ligur: "You're not stoppin' demons coming in though are you?"  
Alan: "Not had any orders to stop 'em - dunno about all that lot though"  
Ligur: "But us three...four...can come in?"  
Alan: "Don't see why not"

Ligur then explained about Dagon and Hastur being let out of the House of Unreason. How they'd passed the test and were here to take up their committee posts. He didn't look convinced, but Ligur pointed to the crowd of celebrating demons and invited him to "ask 'em if you don't believe me". Alan waved them through the cordon and went to talk to the assembled demons.

As they walked into the Hall of the Great Committee Dagon was shaking her head. "Did that just happen?" She asked. Hastur was just as mystified "Ligur must’ve used occult thingummies". Ligur just smiled, he knew Alan wasn’t the brightest demon around, knew too that the demonic army were trained to follow orders, certainly not think about why they’d been given those orders. He’d guessed correctly that the army had been sent more as a matter of form, for show, than anything else. Maybe the idea was to stop the committee escaping, it certainly wouldn’t be to prevent demons from coming into the hall. He was also pleased that he'd shown Hastur how useful he was. The human had been doing a very good job up to now. He was happy she'd got Hastur out of the House and helped patch him up, but there were some things only demons could do and that was what he was there for.

Lenore looked around wonderingly, the building was huge, but still gave the impression of being cramped and oppressive. Neoclassical in design it had a colour scheme of red and a muddy looking green. Statues in a dark coloured stone with glittering gemstone eyes loomed ominously from alcoves and the walls were adorned with frescoes of lost souls suffering unspeakable torments. The wide hallways were cluttered with unexpected filing cabinets, a desk or two with a sleeping demon at it, dark pools of sticky looking slime and furry moulds in iridescent pink and blue. On one wall a huge bracket fungus jutted out, seemingly supported on one side by a set of shelves but drooping down to the floor on the other. They went up a wide staircase avoiding drips of something sticky coming from the ceiling. The stair carpet looked like it had been dissolved in patches and squelched underfoot. Nevertheless the high ceilings were impressive, even if the plaster bulged in places, pregnant with un-disgorged liquid. The building oozed a kind of low grade menace. It was an imposing and intimidating place to be.

After wandering through a few corridors they came to a huge set of double doors stretching from floor to ceiling. One of the doors was ajar, but seemed stuck in place. The bottom corner had been kicked out to make a hole big enough to get through and they squeezed themselves inside. There they found Beelzebub sat slumped in a large chair behind an enormous desk stacked with papers. They looked up when the little procession entered, pulled an astonished face, then went back to brooding. Dagon waved the others aside and went up to the desk bowing as she approached. She said "Lord Beelzebub you’re here! Thought they’d have taken you for sure. Do you know what's happening?"

Beelzebub knew all about the coup and the 'Committee for the Maintenance of Continuity and Stability'. Not very catchy, and saying pretty much the opposite of what it was; this committee was all about change. "They said I was ‘indisposed’, that means I soon will be - House of Unreason no doubt, no idea why they haven’t collected me already" Beelzebub said glumly. Hastur piped up with "me 'n Dagon was there, we passed, they let us out". He seemed to genuinely believe the story they’d concocted. "No-one gets out of that place" Beelzebub said disbelieving, but Dagon confirmed the story was 'mostly' true "an' every demon in Hell knows it by now".

Beelzebub rolled their eyes and flicked a radio on, music blared out. "Been like this for hours, news blackout" they confirmed. "No-one knows anything". Hastur crowed delightedly "they knows about me n' ‘er" indicating Dagon "we told everybody and they'll have gone off n' told everybody else as well. We're news. First demons let out the House. We're famous". He was puffed-up full of his own importance, seemingly oblivious to the danger his new and dubious fame may attract. Lenore wasn’t sure how much danger this was - surely Nergal couldn’t admit they’d escaped without showing ‘Loyalty and Justice’ up as incompetent, but there was nothing to stop them being ‘disappeared’ if the committee hall was taken.

Lenore said urgently "need to make a statement, Lord Beelzebub, tell them you're not indisposed, that rightful power rests here, the new committee is a coup, a plot to overthrow, y'know, stuff like that" she baulked at saying it was a plot to overthrow Satan, it sounded too fantastical. The demons all turned to stare and Beelzebub sighed saying "no use, the comms are down and the building is under guard, show my face they'll blow my head off". Ligur piped up at this point "wouldn't worry about the soldiers, they haven't a clue what they're meant to be doing, make an address from the balcony, they won't intervene". Beelzebub tossed up being killed instantly out on the balcony and a trip to the House of Unreason once the building had been taken and decided the balcony was the better option. 

The balcony turned out to be a huge affair. It was clearly used regularly, with a well worn carpet full of ground-in cigarette ends and spills of different colours. There was a canopy to stop the drips from the roof above and large impressive looking chairs laid out in rows. Beelzebub went to the balustrade and looked out. It was an amazing sight. Clearly the plan to use the Hall as a rallying point had worked. The rumours of demons passing the test and there being a celebration had spread quickly too. There were crowds of assembled demons totally encircling the soldiers' cordon. Some of the demons were sharing drinks with the soldiers and they all looked in a party mood. It certainly didn't look like a tense stand off or like anyone was in immediate danger.

On seeing Beelzebub a cheer went up. When Hastur and Dagon came forward the cheer got even louder. "Best confirm their appointment first" hissed Ligur. Beelzebub was trying hard not to look impressed by the crowds or pleased by the reaction to their appearance on the balcony. They announced Dagon and Hastur were freed from the House of Unreason and now full committee members to tumultuous applause. They then went on to denounce the new committee as a plot against their ‘Dark Lord’ and urged all loyalist demons to protect the Hall.

"What happens now?" Lenore asked. "We wait, can’t do anything else" Beelzebub answered. The thought was the coup would have to try storming the Hall as they’d now drawn attention to themselves. Ligur slipped out to talk to Alan and monitor the situation outside. Dagon told the whole story of the 'escape' from the House of Unreason to Beelzebub who maintained a bored face throughout simply saying "knew they wouldn't’ve let you out" with a glare at Hastur. They gave a brief nod of acknowledgement in Lenore's direction, but didn't speak to her.

The boredom set in pretty quickly for all of them. Nothing worse than waiting for the worst to happen, not knowing when it might kick off, but having nothing to do in the interim. The radio was still playing music, very bad music, they turned it right down and paced in silence.


	26. The Pipes are Leaking in the Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holed up in the Hall awaiting developments Lenore and Hastur wander off in search of food….and maybe more….
> 
> The situation develops and Hastur meets his public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a lull in the action here - might have taken the opportunity to sneak another sex scene in :)
> 
> I did promise some plot and we’re right in the middle of the first part now - expect more to follow.

Lenore was hungry. Hastur suggested there might be food down in one of the subcommittee rooms so they went scavenging. The coup had picked a day when the Great Committee were not sitting for their power grab so the building was quite empty. It was only by chance that Beelzebub had even been there rather than at their usual working office, which probably explained why they hadn’t been collected and sent to the House. Even Hastur was bright enough to consider this was poor timing. The halls and rooms were not entirely deserted, but the few demons they saw looked bored and depressed. Hastur told the (fictional) story of his and Dagon's release from the House, with many added details about the torments they’d endured and how they’d impressed their captives with their loyalty and resolve. Hastur really seemed to be getting into the story, almost as if he believed it himself. They left a buzz of excited conversation in their wake, this was the best story the demons had heard in centuries. 

Finally they found what they were looking for: a room with some sandwiches and a flask of something muddy that tasted heavily alcoholic. Lenore ate hungrily, sipping from the flask. The food was slightly unpleasant, but she was staving. As she swallowed the last mouthful she turned to see Hastur grinning at her. He really did look stunning in his new clothes, his pure black eyes shone and he positively glowed with pride at his promotion. An unexpected wave of lust overwhelmed her. Hastur cocked his head saying "I know what you're thinking". She replied "oh yeah, what's that?", "You wanna get banged by a member of the Great Committee in the official halls don't cha?" She smiled and nodded.

Hastur was over in less than a second pulling her in for a kiss. He kissed her slowly and deeply, grabbing her and holding her tightly against the length of his body. He was grateful to his pet for saving him from the House, he was really. He was getting a little muddled though, because it made more sense that he’d passed and they’d let him out. Being summoned out by a human, actually escaping from the un-escapable House, well, it just didn't sound likely. Either way he was now committee. He'd always known he was important, this proved it. Time to be nice to his pet, she'd always known he deserved high office.

He pulled back slightly, running a hand down to her hip and enjoying the way she trembled slightly at his touch. He could feel waves of lust coming off her and his own response was just as strong. He didn’t have time to really hurt her, but he didn’t think he needed it this time. She was so pretty and willing and he was sure she’d be wet for him, he really wanted to possess her, make her his pet. He thought about what she would like, wanting to reward her for her faith in him. He looked directly into her eyes and growled. "Knickers off, skirt up demon slut, want you bent over that table now" in a demanding and confident voice.

Lenore thought she would melt. The commanding voice he used and the way he knew she would obey him, offer herself wantonly to him, caused sharp darts of desire to shoot through her. Her legs felt slightly weak already and he’d hardly touched her. She rushed to obey, scrambling to ensure she was ready in mere seconds. He kept her waiting while he looked at her appreciatively and the anticipation was almost too much for her. Still standing a short distance away he growled "spread your legs my pretty little slut" and, of course, she complied. Lenore was getting a real thrill from standing there, bent over with her legs spread, displaying herself in that obscene manner, showing she was ready for him whenever her wanted her. She whined softly impatient for him to begin.

Hastur was enjoying himself too, he felt he was owed something for the way he’d endured the torments, succeeded in proving himself worthy to the other demons. He wanted her to enjoy this too, hear her beg for him maybe. Coming up close behind her he ran his hand up her thigh, making her moan. His other hand massaged her bare arse, before pulling back and administering a hard slap. She cried out and he laughed relishing her reaction. As he was hit with another wave of lust from her he said happily "you want something in your cunt don't you demon slut?" He barely gave her time to answer before he smacked her again, this time her cry ended with a groan of pleasure. He put one finger inside her moving it gently, followed quickly by a second. She was pushing back onto him when the third smack landed, it was really hard and she shouted with the pain. "Shhh pretty pet, don't want everyone hearing, they'll all want a go" he said smiling to himself.

His fingers were pushing into her hard and fast and she couldn't help but moan loudly. She was trying to lean further into his hand to get contact with her clit when suddenly his fingers were withdrawn. She whined in disappointment but then felt his cock against her entrance. "Ask me nicely" he growled at her. She did, saying 'please' for him, and he thrust in hard. He continued with more hard, fast thrusts, pushing her against the table. She felt thrills running down her back and legs and again groaned loudly. He was fucking her at a frantic pace and she felt herself shoved forwards with considerable violence, but it felt amazing. Her legs were quivering and the sensation was making her light-headed. He suddenly instructed her: “say my name pet” she complied and he barked in response “louder pet, shout for me, beg me to fuck you”. Waves of desire coursed through her as she shouted for him. He grabbed her waist pulling her hard into him and holding her firmly in place as he came.

She took a moment to collect herself before getting up and finding paper napkins to clean up, noting with satisfaction that demons did indeed use napkins. Pulling her underwear back on and smoothing her skirt into place she turned to see Hastur watching her. "Does it feel any different now I'm committee?" He asked anxiously. "Felt amazing" she told him "but it's not any different". He looked a bit disappointed, but then just grinned saying "never fucked anyone in the Hall of the Great Committee before, you're lucky". She was happy to say "yes I am" and see his delighted, smug expression. As they were talking there came a knock at the door. Hastur ushered her to open it, saying "committee members don't answer doors". It was Ligur with another demon behind him. They had evidently heard the shouting as the first thing he said was "dint wanna interrupt important committee business" whilst leering and winking. Hastur answered, looking pleased with himself: "it was very important, gotta keep my pet satisfied haven't I?" Lenore blushed slightly as she realised her shouts must have been audible from a fair distance away. She hoped no other demons had heard, reflecting that she would soon find out as Hell didn’t seem to have any concept of tact.

Ligur announced "This is King Paimon, leader of Hell's armed forces and member of the Dark Council" bowing in the direction of the other demon. Hastur let out a shriek, then bowed, then grabbed Lenore and pulled her to him saying "this is my personal assistant, she assists me, personally, with work, she personally assists me with my work" he babbled, stopping when he remembered his new rank "I'm on the Great Committee sir, Duke Hastur sir" he finished up bowing again. King Paimon was very pretty with a hint of make-up around his plump lips and high cheekbones. He managed to get hold of one of Lenore's hands kissing it then, surprisingly, did the same to Hastur who giggled nervously. In a loud rumbling voice he announced "this coup is a bit of a mess isn't it?" Not waiting for any response he turned to Ligur saying "take me to Beelzebub".

The group trailed back up the stairs to the committee office where Beelzebub greeted Paimon warily. Ligur explained he'd been chatting to Alan who had decided his orders were 'unclear' and he needed to talk to someone more senior. The two of them had sent out a messenger. Paimon had got hold of the messenger, heard about the 'fuss' over at the Hall and decided to head over. He was not happy with the new committee. They had apparently only contacted him after ordering his forces out to guard the Hall. "These are the Legions of the Damned, they don't guard bloody buildings. What are they meant to be guarding it from anyway?" Lenore had to admit he had a point: no-one seemed to know what they were doing. She wasn’t quite sure about his description of ‘Legions’ though as the soldiers outside were completely outnumbered by the ordinary demon population.

King Paimon continued through these musings. It seemed he wasn’t happy with what Nergal had said when he had finally contacted him either "wants the Hall storming and the Great Committee dissolved, literally dissolved, with holy water". The collected demons shuddered and King Paimon grinned, “holy water - what a bastard” as if, on this point at least, he admired Nergal. He carried on his complaints “seems the House has a direct line with the opposition, given ’em a whole supply of holy things. They’re meant to be demons for Satan’s sake. It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is”. The collected demons seemed to agree, until he added “if anyone has holy weaponry should be my lot. Anyone needs killin’ we’re the ones meant to be doin’ it, not them sneaky buggers hiding up in the House”. that wasn’t quite as reassuring.

The good news was that Paimon had seen the crowds outside. Seen they outnumbered the somewhat unimpressive ‘Legions’ of the Damned. Seen the demonic street party drinking and dancing with his soldiers and the soldiers laughing and cheering. "Reckon it's less than 50/50 they’d obey an order to kill thousands of, well not innocent, let say not particularly guilty demons. Longer they stay outside partying together the lower the chance. I ain't gonna order 'em to do it. Ask 'em to do sommat and they don't do it, well you certainly ain't head of the army any more are you?" Logical. The issue was with the unofficial forces of 'Loyalty and Justice'. "Might send 'em, be outnumbered 'bout twenty, maybe thirty to one, but these guys are hard core. If they start a riot who knows how many will be killed accidentally. Outside your Hall too, while you lot sit on your arses letting them die. Wouldn't look good would it?" Paimon laughed jovially and said "I'll let you know if I hear anything" then took his leave.

The demons looked at each other, a certain amount of alarm showing in their faces. Hastur looked downright panicked. "Not gonna sit in here if they're killin' demons, gonna go outside and join 'em". Beelzebub rolled their eyes "join who exactly?" Ligur, however, thought it was a good idea. "We should go out an' talk to 'em, the soldiers are good lads, they'll be flattered if a committee member came 'n talked to 'em in person. The pit demons think you're great already and it'd be good to show your face, make sure they know the stories are true". Hastur did his best to look statesmanlike, and failed. "Gonna take you" he directed to Lenore "look good me havin' my own staff". She wasn't so sure but, on reflection, felt safer with him than alone in the Hall with the other demons.

At this moment Kevin wandered in. He looked cheerful and relaxed and was quite pleased to have found them. "Someone said you was up here". Dagon demanded to know how he'd got in, he just shrugged saying "dunno, just kinda went in the door, no-one said I wasn't meant to. Looking for Hastur's P.A." he nodded at Lenore. Beelzebub was too stunned to be angry and just asked "why?" Kevin had remembered Lenore's idea about getting control of the comms and reckoned he could help. Beelzebub turned up the volume on the radio and got static. "Where's the music gone?" He grinned saying "Can't stand that crap, took it off. Put sommat else on if you like, the kit's in the second basement, I’m sure I can figure it out". They all stared open mouthed. "Yeah, dunno why but they didn't take the broadcast link off line, must've forgot" Kevin shrugged, as if this oversight was perfectly understandable.

Ligur, Hastur and Lenore left the other demons heading down to the basement with Kevin and went out to meet 'the public'. Hastur was on form, he let Ligur introduce him to various army demons, miracled up a notebook for Lenore and got her to take down names and grievances from everyone they spoke to. He promised each of them to look into their issues 'as a committee member'. He told the story of his and Dagon's release from the House of Unreason multiple times, with extra details along the way, even took his bandage off and flashed his stitched shoulder explaining about the blessed blade. He also said his P.A. had a blessed blade and Lenore showed it to the assembled demons to oohs and aahs. The pit demons already adored him, one of their own a committee member! The mood was jubilant.

The walkabout lasted about an hour and was a tremendous success. They shared drinks, chatted about the problem of leaks, at one point Hastur climbed onto a ‘tank’ and led a chorus of a particularly obscene song that seemed to be a favourite with the soldiers. Lenore was a bit wary of the attention to begin with, but soon discovered she had a kind of minor celebrity status herself. The pit demons were out in force and she grinned as Charu gave a realistic impression of Hastur’s squeals as she stitched his shoulder. Finally they made a leisurely return to the hall, waving to the assembled demons as they went. The huge double doors had been left open when they came out. Hastur now ensured they were pushed fully open and dragged across large stone gargoyles to hold them there. He shouted to the crowd as he went back inside "bet that coup committee are all barricaded in with posh booze all to themselves an' no-one can see 'em. Well, that's not how we work, we got nuffin’ to hide. These doors are stayin' open. We're all stuck in this shit-hole together and we on the Great Committee are stood in the same shit as everyone else. The pipes are leaking in the Hall same as in the rest of Hell". It didn't sound very catchy or inspiring to Lenore but the assembled demons cheered enthusiastically. Ligur muttered to himself, as if trying the words out for himself, "the pipes are leaking in the Hall".


	27. Darkness In The Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get the radio-comms working - but what to say? Can Hastur help and will there be an attempt to storm the hall?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all action, things will calm down a bit after this - but not for too long - first plot hurdle has been safely navigated!

Hastur wasn't wrong when he said the pipes were leaking in the Hall. As if to prove him right a stream of gunky green stuff fell from the ceiling onto his new shirt as soon as he got back in. For once he seemed to be pleased at being soaked, but Lenore was not impressed. She should have known better than to hope Hastur would stay clean and 'dashing'. She sighed, he was still attractive but the clean clothes had been a nice novelty. At least the side with the green gloop wasn't the side with the newly stitched wound. They headed up to the office but found it empty, so trailed back downstairs looking for the second basement where they assumed they'd find the others. Many wanderings later they did indeed find them. By then Hastur had managed to tear a hole in his trousers and scuff his boots and looked suspiciously happy about it.

Down in the basement they had got the broadcast link up and running and put the music back on. They were debating what else to put out on air. The problem being that neither Beelzebub and Dagon were naturally inspiring speakers. Dagon in particular was still so angry at her imprisonment in the House that letting her on air seemed like a very bad idea. Ligur signalled for Beelzebub to follow him out into the corridor. He said "Hastur told 'em 'the pipes are leaking in the Hall, same as in the rest of Hell’ and they cheered, wedged the front door open and said we'd got nuffin to hide. Think you should put it out on air". Beelzebub wasn't convinced but reluctantly agreed anything was better than letting Dagon rage indiscriminately. Ligur ran through the points of Hastur's impromptu speech and added a few bits of his own. Beelzebub edited it slightly and they agreed a script, Beelzebub scribbling down notes in almost impossibly small block capitals. Lenore asked "any chance of getting a message to the rest of the Dark Council? Ask them to come out against the coup? Sounded like that King was fed up with them, maybe if we get the others onside". Beelzebub looked at her, a strange expression on their face, and replied in a bored drone, the only sign of stress being the buzzing sibilants, "yezz, worth a go I zzuppoze" and made some more notes.

Lenore insisted they put something on to wake any listening demons up first. Apparently all the music in the Hall was deliberately designed to be irritating. This was to ensure demons would turn down the broadcasts and miss important information, making it easier to fail them for not meeting new targets they didn't know about. In desperation she suggested Hastur sing something popular, but not too rude. His singing voice was actually very good, if you ignored the lyrics, which usually consisted largely of obscenities and swear words. He suggested a few songs that caused heads to shake. Then hit on one they all agreed on. Kevin set to record and he began. It was a familiar tune with few word changes. Apparently the demons' flag was 'blackish red', but had still 'shrouded oft' their 'martyred dead'. The collected demons joined in and it sounded quite rousing, if not exactly cheering. Hopefully it got their listeners' attention anyway.

Beelzebub started the speech: "demons of Hell unite, you have nothing to lose but bad drains" and Lenore just about managed to stifle her laughter. Beelzebub glared at her before continuing. "The coup plotters say we're wasting time on Armageddon, say it's petty revenge, say it's a distraction. But we all suffered in the fall, we all know it's unfair, we all deserve vengeance. Vengeance for all! They may sit in comfortable, dry chambers talking about making Hell a better place, but we all know Hell is a shit-hole and the Great Committee stand side by side with you in that shit. No fancy offices for us. The pipes are leaking in the Hall same as in the rest of Hell. We all know what we want: War. Booze. Armageddon. The coup want to take that from us: stop the war, hoard the booze and deny us Armageddon. Down with the coup, up with the Hall". The assembled demons cheered repeating 'War. Booze. Armageddon' like a rallying cry. Beelzebub again called on all demons loyal to Satan to stand with the Hall against the coup ending with "the doors of the Hall are open, we have nothing to hide".

Beelzebub moved on to make a direct appeal to the remaining members of the Dark Council, warning them "any attempt to avoid taking sides in this issue must end in fiasco", "the stakes are too high for you to stay away", "are you with us or against us", and a few more vaguely familiar slogans. Finally ending by encouraging them to remember Satan's own words 'liberty, evility, fidelity' and asking that they denounce the plotters' treachery.

Beelzebub looked satisfied, so Kevin ended the recording and put the tape on a loop. Despite the well known injunction to 'abandon hope, all ye who enter here' the demons were hopeful. They headed up to the offices, stopping off at the open doors to watch the assembly outside. They were listening to the broadcast, joining in with 'The Demons' Flag' and chanting 'liberty, evility, fidelity'. The irony of the intensely hierarchical and brutally restricted denizens of Hell fighting to maintain their liberty seemed lost on all but Lenore. The soldiers had abandoned all pretence of guarding and were drinking steadily; the demons were dancing and singing together, it looked like a street party. There were crowds as far as the eye could see, surely they wouldn't storm the Hall? It would be a massacre if they tried.

The little procession sat themselves down in Beelzebub’s committee office and seemed set for a long wait, talking sporadically about work: issues with new forms, problems getting a transport signal in the pits etc etc. Dull stuff and no-one was really listening to anyone else. Lenore was exhausted and fell asleep resting against Hastur's chest, the side away from the gunk. She was woken up some time later when Hastur tried to move her. There was a lot of activity, demons were coming in and out of the office and clearly there were more downstairs. She asked what was happening and Hastur said there was a rumour Nergal's demons were going to try to take the Hall by force.

Suddenly they were plunged into darkness. Hastur's hand sprung into flame providing an eerie, flickering light. "Power's out" he said unnecessarily. "Must be about to start". He and the others rushed out, leaving her alone in the office. Hastur yelled back at her "hide y'self, in case the worst happens". She was left in pitch darkness with no way of seeing anything, let alone being able to find a hiding place. Sitting back down on the bench Lenore tried to resign herself to wait. A glow came from the door getting brighter and a demon came in. She jumped about a foot in the air, but it was only Xaphan, her entire little red body glowing. "Follow me" she said. Out in the corridors the glows from various demons in other parts of the Hall gave a faint light. Xaphan was lightning sconces on the walls, which smoked and smelt acrid. Lenore recognised it as the same burning plasticy-rubbery smell that Hastur gave out. She had been so intent on the smell she didn't realise until too late that Xaphan had disappeared, leaving her alone in the middle of the main staircase.

Downstairs the front doors were still open and out in the further reaches of Hell distant lights flared on and off and wails and shouts rang out. The Hall was now lit poorly by the guttering, smoking lamps but outside was full of menacing darkness and she wished Hastur hadn't propped the doors open. There were strange demons appearing and disappearing as they passed through the lit areas and back into darkness. The air was getting thick with smoke and she could see very little. Nebulous shadows flitted on the dark red walls, looming large or shrinking alarmingly, as bodies passed in front of the lights. There was the suppressed hiss of urgent conversation all around her. Her pulse had quickened and her heart was in her mouth. She knew it was very unsafe stood here in the middle of the staircase. Even if the Hall wasn't stormed she could taste the tension in the air and the uncertain light made it quite possible mistakes could be made. She remembered Paimon's words about a riot and accidental discorporations and started to panic.

Lenore was hyperventilating, but the smoke made breathing painful. As the acrid smell hit the back of her throat she started coughing. Shaking with trepidation she reached out trying to navigate to the side of the staircase but nearly tripped on some hidden debris. Then she felt something she couldn't see passing very close and suppressed a scream. A figure outlined by the wavering red-orange light was getting closer and she reached for the blessed knife. It growled "steady on pet, I've been damaged enough already". Hastur 'thank g...' but was bought up short, she didn't know what to thank, she was just grateful for his presence.

"Come here pet, keep forgetting you ain't a demon" he said wrapping an arm round her and helping her down the stairs. He shepherded her down to the second basement where they'd been before. Beelzebub was there with a couple of unknown demons. Hastur told her to wait, he had to protect the Hall in case of an attack. Beelzebub looked from her to Hastur saying "you should take her back up" but she shook her head not wanting to go. Hastur replied "no time for that". He did, however, make time to lean into Lenore and kiss her. She felt the familiar wriggling movement of maggots on her face and smiled into the mass. Hastur withdrew. The demons were all looking at her, but the spluttering lamps gave insufficient light for her to see their expressions. Beelzebub muttered "weird" then went back to their whispered conversation with the other demons.

Lenore sat on a chair in the corner. Forgotten and anxious, in a damp basement full of demons, surrounded by the fug of smoke from guttering, odorous lamps. Not what she'd have predicted for her future self. The noises upstairs were muffled, but they heard shouts and some loud bangs. An unknown amount of time passed, probably not as long as it seemed, but it felt almost never-ending. She was exhausted but too tense and too uncomfortable to sleep. Suddenly the lights flickered back into life and she blinked at the relative brightness. The other demons barely looked up before going back to their conversation.

The radio was spewing out white noise and Beelzebub had just reached out a hand out to turn it down when a voice came from it "this is Bael, head of the Dark Council. We are coming". The voice cut off, no indication whether they were hostile or not, just enough information to create a sense of foreboding. The demons all departed, presumably heading up to the entrance lobby to await their arrival, she was alone again.

There was a crackle of static in the air and a flash of light as a presence made itself felt. It was hard to say if it was a single demon or several, the thing was just a dark mass with a reddish halo that radiated an oppressive, terrifying energy. Words formed in her head asking where Beelzebub was and the answer was sucked out of her before she could put it into words. A new question formed itself, the mass was asking what she was. The answer her brain gave was 'Hastur's pet'. The mass seemed satisfied and dispersed. The sense of relief was immense, like a weight had been lifted and she could breath freely again. With the lights back on and the departure of the mass she felt as if the worst was over. It seemed quieter upstairs too so Lenore pulled several chairs together and put her feet up, falling asleep almost immediately.


	28. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Lenore’s hidey hole in the basement the result of the coup is unclear - all will be explained in this chapter.
> 
> Plus Hastur gets a new job and the three of them get back together - finally…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to relax for a bit after the excitement(?) of the previous chapters - hope you’ve stayed with me…. there is more to come, but everyone gets a much deserved break in this chapter - and a nice time too…

She awoke to the sound of approaching voices. They didn't sound hostile, but she bought out the knife anyway and took up a position behind the door. Hastur, Ligur and Xaphan walked in, Hastur shouting in a panic "where is she?" when faced with the apparently empty room. She stepped out from behind the door putting the knife back in it's sheath. Ligur laughed, a rare sound, "she'd've got the jump on us, gotta be careful round that one" he said happily. Hastur was covered in dark demonic blood, he waved her away "not my blood pet".

A team from 'Loyalty and Justice' had tried to sneak into the Hall undercover of the power cut. Sneaking through a crowd of thousands of drunken and confused demons all flaring hell-fire, wasn't a great idea. They were spotted pretty quickly and surrounded by angry demons. It seemed Hastur's role had uncharacteristically been one of restraint, protecting the demons from being torn limb from limb. However, delving into his motives a little, it became clear he was not being kind. His argument to the assembled crowd was that they didn't deserve a nice quick discorporation, much better to hand them over to the pits, which he promised would be a long complicated process with the need for a lot of ‘questioning’. That was when 'Loyalty and Justice' turned on him and the scuffle ensued. Ligur had had to pull Hastur off them before he discorporated them all single handed. An angry demon is dangerous, an angry Hastur is lethal.

The Dark Council had turned up to support the Hall against the coup. There was a rumour that Satan himself had got an outside line and communicated with Beelzebub. Lenore then told them about her half conversation with the red haloed mass, and the demons eyed her warily. "You makin' it up?" Ligur asked, she indignantly denied it and they looked at each other meaningfully. Eventually she got fed up and demanded to know what the problem was. "Sounds like you had a conversation with Satan, pet, that's usually not a good thing". They got her to repeat the story in detail and Hastur was torn between being pleased she'd told him she was his 'pet' and terrified that Satan had been alerted to his existence. Lenore pointed out that all Hell knew who he was now - he was famous. That made him squirm. "Dunt wanna be famous if it means everyone knows who I am" he muttered.

They took her up to the main entrance hall. There was soot everywhere and large burnt patches on the carpets. Strong spirits, hell-fire and panicky demons usually did end in a blaze. Luckily Hell was too damp for any serious damage to have occurred. The doors were still propped open. Looking out she saw the assembled demons had mostly dispersed and the army had gone too. A lone tank remained, parked at an alarming angle on the stairs approaching the Hall, having been smashed into a stone balustrade by its drunken crew. There was a terrific mess of broken glass, smouldering piles of rubbish, an abandoned speaker and, puzzlingly, a rather large collection of discarded clothing. Hastur darted out and came back with a disreputable coat. It looked slightly green now, but might have been any colour to begin with. He put it on over his stained outfit admiring the fit. Reaching into a pocket he fished out a pack of cigarettes and happily lit one. "Nice find this, nearly as good as my last one".

Hastur wanted to check on the prisoners over at the pits, but Ligur said he should be careful of wandering round Hell now. He was well known as one of the demons who had thwarted the coup, he was on the committee, he was famous and popular - all good reasons why other demons would be glad to see him dead. Hastur whined "what's the point gettin' on the committee if I can't do nuffin". Ligur asked him how many committee members he saw wandering round talking to ordinary demons 'none' he admitted sulkily. "That's cuz ordinary demons hate anyone with more power than them. What would you a' done if committee turned up at our office?" Hastur answered without thinking "hide, or mebbe kill 'em, make a vacancy" then realised what he'd said and looked horrified. "Dunt wanna be committee no more" he said petulantly.

He had to be restrained from going to tell Beelzebub he was resigning then and there. Lenore made a suggestion "bet Beelzebub doesn't want popular demons on the committee either, trying to steal the credit for them stopping the coup". She spoke over Hastur's interruption of "but I did stop the coup", saying "bet Beelzebub would be happy for you to resign, be so happy maybe they'd offer an incentive for you to do it". Again she ignored Hastur's interjection of "dunt need an incentive, just wanna go". "They'll be needing someone to oversee the pits now Nergal's gone, you know the job, know the pit demons, you'd be good at it, shame it wouldn't leave you time for all the committee responsibilities though isn't it?" Hastur grinned finally cottoning on, "yeah, I reckon so". He plunged back into the Hall of the Great Committee, the last time he did so as a committee member.

Ligur looked at the human thoughtfully. That had been a good idea. In fact she’d had quite a few good ideas lately. It would make Hastur happy. Being Hastur he wouldn’t remember it had been her idea either and would take the credit himself. It would mean extra work, but then again she would have to pick a lot of it up so it shouldn’t affect him too much. He certainly thought she had her uses now, maybe it hadn’t been such a silly idea to employ her after all.

Lenore wasn’t sure why she’d got Hastur the job of overseeing the pits, except that she knew it would make him happy. After the horrible things that had happened she really wanted him to be happy. However, she now prevailed on him to take her home. He and Ligur were going to the pits to pass on the news about Hastur's new role. Going home now meant she would miss the celebration, but the pervasive smell of Hell was in her hair and clothes and she longed to be clean. She ignored his persistence in the end looking Hastur in the eyes saying "deal: I want to go home". He sighed but took her back up.

At home she discovered it was about 10 in the morning. She dumped her clothes in the wash basket and took a much needed shower. She put on clean clothes and headed down to the kitchen looking for food. It wasn't until she got back downstairs that she remembered the mess the pit demons would have left behind them. She was tired and at a low ebb after all the stress of the night before and felt like crying at the thought of having to tidy up after all the demons, so fixed herself coffee with a healthy tot of brandy. She was running short of food so just took some slices of bread out of the freezer and stuffed them in the toaster fishing a jar of pate out from the fridge. The food and coffee revived her and she went to tackle the mess.

Lenore had finally got the house into order when she remembered Hastur's mark on her arm. She'd ditched the bandage when she got in the shower but was too tired to even look at it. Now she headed to the kitchen and took out the first aid box. It was weeping slightly. She cleaned it carefully, wincing as the wipes took off the thin scabs. Applying cream she put on a new dressing pad, taping it in place with difficulty. It hurt again now, the regular throbbing pain reminded her of Hastur and made her feel warm inside. 'The L word' she supposed. She forced herself to go out shopping taking a large wheeled trolley that had belonged to Lord C's grandmother. She restocked on food and got a couple of bottles of brandy and some more port. When she got back she was hungry again so indulged in a platter of cheese and biscuits with grapes and pickles and a glass of port. Taking a book at random she opened it at a marked page and started reading. Typical of Carradine's library it was a grimoire giving instructions for making a box to capture evil spirits. She read with interest.

Hastur arrived very late in the evening looking somewhat the worse for wear. She noted he was still in the shabby coat and seemed to have acquired 'new' boots too; huge, chunky things, heavily scuffed and a pair of disreputable looking trousers. So much for him looking smart. He sloshed brandy into a glass, sat down, and promptly fell asleep. Lenore looked down at him sleeping peacefully. His face was covered with the rough green patches, his now grubby, bloodstained shirt and waistcoat unbuttoned at the top revealing scarred skin with a few of the fresh burns just visible. His arm fell limply over the side of the chair as he slipped down, snoring gently. A sadistic demon, overseer of the dreaded pits and Duke of Hell. She thought how sweet he looked and sighed contentedly. She felt responsible for him in a strange way. Now he was asleep, drunk and vulnerable she didn't want to leave him. Collecting her knife she made a makeshift bed with cushions, grabbed a blanket and fell asleep at his feet, feeling she was on guard.

Lenore woke when the air fizzed and sat up, pulling out her knife and rising into a half-crouch, ready for whatever was coming. It was only Ligur. He took in the scene giving a rare smile "you lookin' after 'im then?" She nodded, got up and offered him a drink, guiding him away from the sleeping demon hoping not to wake him. She might as well have not bothered. Hastur sprang up in his customary defensive stance looking round wildly, a blade ready in his hand. He took a few seconds to take in the scene then asked "how'd I get up here?" Ligur shrugged, "said you was going home, but you must've come here instead" Hastur looked at Lenore suspiciously"you dint summon me did you?" She denied it. He shrugged saying "guess I wanted a shag". How romantic. "Don't s'pose you want one now do you? Two of us here, would you like to play the demon slut for us?" He asked grinning. She considered, then nodded. "You wanna fuck her too don't you Lig?" Ligur nodded dumbly seemingly too surprised to disagree.

After the initial shock of waking up on earth instead of in Hell Hastur thought he'd recovered well. He decided not to think about any possible implications of saying he was 'going home' then waking up here. Instead he decided to take advantage of the situation. He'd got Ligur and Lenore together again and this time there was no coup to stop. Time to have fun. He took charge, pointing at them, "off with your clothes both of you, I want a good show".

Lenore was surprised when Ligur started removing his clothes without comment; she did the same. Hastur told Ligur "gonna show you how to make her cum, then we're both gonna fuck her. She wants two of us at once. Greedy little demon slut aren't you?" This last directed at Lenore who agreed enthusiastically, a thrill running down her as she confirmed Hastur's statement.

Hastur grinned, he knew he'd already got Lenore's agreement to this, but getting her confirmation was great. Remembering her enthusiasm he had decided to act like this had all been her idea. She was playing up beautifully. Ligur seemed to have come round to his way of thinking regarding his pet and Hastur was keen to push him too. Get them both doing his bidding, watch their faces, sense their lust. He was hard already, it was going better than he'd imagined it. He continued giving instructions "Put her over the desk, nice an' rough, little slut loves it". 

Lenore felt herself being lifted by the waist and carried backwards across the room. Next thing she'd been spun round and was slammed over the desk. Hastur said "I normally just kick her ankles apart but you should ask", Ligur asked her to spread her legs, which she did. He then stopped, awaiting instructions, leaving her bent over the desk, legs spread, his hand on her back holding her down. The position was very arousing and looking to one side she saw Hastur watching and felt another thrill hit her like lightening. He came over pulling her arms roughly behind her back, twisting her wrists up towards her elbows, and tying them firmly in place. She was now completely helpless, trussed, trapped and very turned on.

Hastur asked "are you wet for us demon slut?" She nodded enthusiastically and he hummed happily. "Pretty pet" then to Ligur "go on, have a feel". He fumbled with her pushing in two fingers at once. She took a sharp breath in and Hastur admonished him "careful with my pet, don't damage her". Ligur withdrew the fingers leaving her empty and untouched, which made her whine in disappointment.

Hastur huffed and came over, "like this" he said taking Ligur's hand and guiding it to her clit. He'd wanted to watch Ligur doing this, to have space to observe Lenore as she was pushed to orgasm. Now he was going to have to spend time showing Ligur what to do. Although, thinking about it, that could be fun too. He kept his hand in place, helping build a rhythm. Ligur had got the idea, but by now Hastur was enjoying himself too much to stop. She was very wet and making such wonderful noises, this really was fun.

Having two demons rubbing her clit was almost too much for her and she groaned loudly. Behind her she heard Hastur tell Ligur "shove in a couple of fingers now the slut's warmed up". Having him talk about her like that sent lightening bolts of desire down her. She felt herself focus on Hastur, willing him to keep talking to her as she felt her orgasm building. Hastur hissed at her "tell us what you are and what you want pet" and she replied saying she was his demon slut and wanted two demons to fuck her at once. She knew she was going to cum as soon as Hastur prompted her to start speaking, vocalise her lust. She could hear his hummed approval as she pushed back into them hard, crying out and feeling herself convulsing around Ligur's fingers.

The two demons left her prone, her hands tied, legs spread and still bent over the desk. She tried to close her legs and wriggle round to see them, but Hastur shouted at her “stay where you are, let us see how wet you are, how much you want this”. A thrill ran through her and she stayed where she was, sticking her bottom out slightly, exposing herself further for the demons, whining in anticipation. Hastur explained ‘her’ plan, then took hold of Ligur's chin silently asking for his agreement. Ligur nodded so he carried on "get some lube on and put a finger in and be gentle this time". Ligur thought Hastur had been right about the difference. Shagging the human like this was fun. He enjoyed Hastur turning her into an object there solely to fulfil their joint lusts. The fact she seemed to like it too was a little weird, but he had to admit the waves of lust from her as she told him she was Hastur’s demon slut was a big turn on. 

Lenore felt Ligur carefully inserting a well lubed finger into her bottom and groaned. Hastur walked round instructing Ligur to continue and "put in a second when she's ready, plenty of lube, don't want my pet hurt". Any concerns about being hurt had disappeared entirely, she didn't want this to stop. Every time Hastur spoke she felt bolts of lust shooting through he. She really wanted them both now. Just as she was thinking this he leaned in to kiss her, pulling back and saying "you love this don't you? Tied up, legs spread, violated and degraded by two demons at once? Little slut". She moaned in response enjoying how his words made her feel. He kissed her again and she could feel Ligur behind her pushing in a second finger.

Hastur looked up watching proceedings behind her. Ligur had a concentrated expression and was clearly enjoying himself. His eyes wandered to Lenore, she was flushed and moaning softly with each push of Ligur's fingers. He leant back down to her, continuing his earlier theme "dint even have to force you. You just stripped and spread your legs, so wet before we’d even touched you. Want us to fuck you hard, use you so we both cum? Desperate for it aren't you little demon slut?" She groaned in response, but he wanted a proper reply "go on, ask nicely, beg for us". Lenore started speaking, ending up whining with desire "want you to fuck me, please, two demons, however you want, use me to make yourselves cum, oh please. I'm begging you, please fuck me, I want it so much, please, please". Hastur groaned, enjoying her desperate lust, how much it turned him on. Ligur would be happy too, he'd always enjoyed them begging. Hastur felt waves of lust from all sides. They were both his to direct, would do anything he said. He took a deep breath before the next step.

Hastur stood her up while he climbed onto the desk. Then directed Ligur to lift her by the waist and he took hold of her shoulders. Between them they handled her roughly, pulling her into position and Ligur lining up behind. She could hear the tremble in Hastur's voice as he told her "don't move pet, just let us fuck you". As she was pushed down she felt Hastur penetrating her soaking cunt while Ligur pushed against her arse. Well prepared and lubed he slid in without trouble. Between them they lifted her and pushed and pulled so she could feel herself totally filled. She was completely helpless, arms tied, held in place by the demons with no choice but to let them use her as they wished. It felt better than she'd imagined.

To begin with being that full was slightly uncomfortable, but as they continued pulling her roughly, and fucked her harder, it started feeling really good. At this angle her g-spot was being hit and her clit was rubbed each time they pulled her onto them. She was surprised to find a second orgasm building. She moaned loudly and Hastur immediately said "shush, tryin’ to concentrate" in a cross voice. His words only served to turn her on even more and she started feeling closer to cumming. When she tried to push herself into Hastur harder she was admonished "oi slut, stop moving". This was too much: she had no choice, no control over what was being done to her, was totally filled by the two demons who moved her this way and that, ensuring she satisfied their lusts. It felt so good. Hastur's hands held her shoulders and Ligur grabbed her waist, wrapping one arm around her. She was overwhelmed by sensations: their rough hands, strong scent, grunts and groans. Her orgasm was building fast and, as she looked down into Hastur's pure black eyes, a wave crashed over her. She felt over sensitive, like her pleasure was forcing its way out of her body, totally helpless as they continued fucking her through her climax. It was incredibly intense and her vision clouded as she cried out involuntarily, unable to control herself, feeling like she was falling down and floating up at the same time.

Her orgasm took both of them by surprise. Hastur saw the hazy expression and felt the powerful wave of pleasure rippling out from her body. He could sense Ligur's reaction as her convulsions pushed him to climax, then his own orgasm hit at almost the same time. As he pushed her down Ligur pulled her hard into him. Hastur was hit by a second wave of ecstasy from Ligur and felt himself cumming hard. He shouted incoherently as they pulled her in two directions at once. That had been really good.

It took a minute or two for them to recover and untangle themselves. Lenore was a mess, shaking and leaking fluids down her legs. She felt drunk from the sensation and too weak to stand. One or other used a miracle to clean her up and untie her, then Hastur helped her gently into a chair. "You were great pet, even better than I planned. You got us all to cum together. My clever, pretty, pet" he told her in a rush, a huge grin on his face. Turning he instructed Ligur: "say 'thank you' to my pet" Ligur seemed uncomfortable but grunted in her direction "yeah, cheers, it was nice y'know". About as close to 'thank you' as a demon got. She smiled at them both saying: "felt good". Ligur shook his head at Hastur looking back at Lenore and asking "how'd you get her to do it?" Hastur hummed happily "she's my pet, she'd do anything for me". Lenore corrected him "almost anything beautiful". 


	29. The Council Are Never Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosy at home the coup is over so they have nothing to worry about - right? Well, kind of. As Lenore hears more about how Hell is dealing with the demons on the ‘wrong side’ of the coup she starts to have misgivings. How ‘fair’ is fair exactly? It doesn’t stop her from wanting to help though….
> 
> There are some positives, a party and recognition for their role in defeating the plot and Hastur is looking after her so what could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....the plot continues....

Lenore went up to wash and dress leaving the two demons to their own devices. She came back down and decided to make coffee so went to the library to ask if they wanted any. Hastur had Ligur on his lap and they were kissing fairly passionately so she backed out leaving them to it. She prepared breakfast for one. Refreshing a couple of bread rolls in the oven she loaded a tray with coffee, butter, jam and orange juice taking it up to the dining room. Habit again, but even when eating alone it was nice to have a bit of ceremony. She had just finished and was taking the tray back to the kitchen when Hastur came out looking for her. "Dint offer me any food" he grumbled. "You had your mouth full already sweetheart" was her tart reply and he cackled "not jealous are you?". "You're insatiable, I don't think I could keep up on my own" she replied smiling. "Ligur said you weren't" he said satisfied. She wondered if they shared every detail of their existence with each other, and guessed they probably did.

When she'd washed up she went to the library peeping carefully round the door in case they were at it again. They weren't, although Ligur was still mostly naked. Hastur sat watching, a fond expression on his face, as the other demon collected his clothes and dressed. She offered to get them something for breakfast but Hastur indicated the brandy he'd poured himself the night before. They were talking about the celebration in the pits. It seemed more of a straight out piss up than a party. She had apparently been missed and she felt like maybe she'd let them down by being too tired to party. It was the nagging feeling of guilt that made her say she was sorry to have missed it, but maybe they could all come up here and have a few drinks. She regretted it as soon as she had spoken, drunken demons in her house didn't sound sensible when she thought about it. Luckily Hastur said "we're having a proper 'do' tonight, bring 'em some of the fancy booze and they'll all be happy". That was ok then.

"Is it back to 'business as usual' in Hell now?" She asked and Hastur rolled his eyes. "Pits is a mess pet. Looks like half the files have bin taken up to 'Loyalty and Justice', Charu's doin' his best, but it's gonna take months". "Guess I'll be busy then" was her only comment. Ligur chimed in saying that wasn't the only problem. Apparently, when the coup plotters (aka the Nergalists) fled from the Council Chambers, they'd holed up in the House of Unreason and couldn't be persuaded out. It wasn't surprising they were reluctant to leave, there was a hunt up for 'Nergalists' and those who'd failed to pledge allegiance to the Hall on the night were being rounded up for questioning. Some hearings had already begun, with or without the accused. Absence was taken as an admission of guilt. Hell was being purged of disloyal demons in preparation for the Great War. They wanted Nergal and the other senior traitors to face trial in person, so 'vengeance could be seen to be done'. However, they couldn't get them out of the House, which was filled with Loyalty and Justice demons. Apparently the House was pretty well fortified and they had no way of knowing the extent of the forces of ‘Loyalty and Justice’, there was also the potential that prisoners were still inside and if they just stormed it then they might all be killed. Many of the demons in the House had already been found guilty as they hadn't attended the preliminary hearings. Not that they'd known about the hearings, at least not until they'd already taken place. Hell's 'justice' could move quickly when necessary. They certainly had no incentive to surrender themselves.

Lenore thought it all sounded very sinister, reflecting that it was a good job they'd been on the winning side. Hell seemed to have their own way of doing things and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Her assumption had been that the problem lay with ‘Loyalty and Justice’, they were the force to worry about. Hastur had made it clear that otherwise the system was fair and everyone knew it, but these latest developments didn’t sound fair. Maybe she was missing something. She decided to try and not worry about it for now. The practical aspect of the problem sidetracked her and she asked "do you think demons count as 'evil spirits'?" Ligur thought they probably would, so she told them about the incantation to make a box and capture 'evil spirits' in it. They had a look at the book and thought there was something to it. Ligur suggested a few tweaks to it, pointing out bits that were simply repetition or had incorrect references. He said it would be good to run it through the Occult Derivation department but Hastur scoffed "they're about as helpful as an imp after it's et mushrooms". So they decided to put the plan, such as it was, to Beelzebub. Ligur thought he was best doing this as Beelzebub was stuck at the Hall on committee duty at the moment and it would be a bad idea for Hastur to go there after his spectacular behaviour during the coup and his subsequent resignation. He said "we don't want them thinking you're being a new coup do we?" and Lenore heartily agreed.

As soon as Ligur was gone Hastur grabbed her to him breathing in the smell of her clean hair and clothes. "You smell funny human, like fruit, but not rotten". She returned the compliment, if that was what it was, "you smell of burning and gunpowder and rotting leaves". He seemed pleased and pulled her onto his lap. "Lets have a look see how your brand is healing" he examined her arm saying the last bits needed touching up along the bottom edge. He twisted her round pinning her arm in place and she felt the heat of his fingers hovering above the wound. "Hold still pet" he said before applying heat to her arm. She did her best, only trying to pull away after a couple of seconds. He held her steady and she tried to control her breathing as the pain pulsed up her arm. When he finally let her go she looked at the fresh burn over the healing ones. It really hurt again, but she still felt like it was a nice thing. Her proof that Hastur wanted her.

She squirmed in his lap trying to get free "need to bandage it again" she explained. He didn't let her go, instead asking "do you like being my pet?" She said crossly "I'm your P.A. Hastur". He looked dubious "y'told The Boss you were my pet, so that shows what you really think". She considered "sometimes I am I guess, other times I'm your P.A., you're usually good at telling which is which". They left it at that and she went to re-bandage her arm. When she came back she said shyly "I do like being your pet, and being a demon slut for you. But it's a bit difficult 'cause you're a demon and don't do the L word and I've fallen for you" she looked awkward, shuffling her weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't something she'd talked about with him before. He looked at her strangely, "you've 'fallen' for me?" , "fallen in love" she explained. He nodded "reckon it's the same thing pet" gazing at her intently for a few moments before adding "you're with me now, with Hell that is. Forever". She thought this sounded a little sinister and looked at him feeling confused and a bit scared. He smiled at her "I'll look after you pet, don't worry" and grabbed her, pulling her back onto his lap. The moment passed and she was happy again held tightly in Hastur’s arms.

She asked about the trials of the senior coup plotters and whether he was overseeing them. Apparently they were 'political' and so far too sensitive for the pits to handle, instead they were going straight to the Council. "Saves us the paperwork, plus we all get to watch when they're found guilty". She was confused "what do you mean 'when' they're found guilty? What if they're found innocent?" It appeared that firstly no demon was ever innocent and, secondly, if they received a request to send a trial straight to Council it was because it was ‘political’ and so they knew they were guilty already. "See, if the hearing was in the pits the other demons don't see it, even worse we might get the wrong verdict, gotta see vengeance being delivered in important cases, make sure it's fair".

She was mystified "but it's not fair if they’ve been found guilty before the trial. I thought you believed trials should be fair". The answer was somewhat muddled, it boiled down to: traitors still got a 'fair trial', but only after their guilt had already been decided. To the question 'how do you know they're a traitor if you don't have a fair trial first' the answer was 'the Dark Council decide on political matters and the Council doesn't make mistakes'. She was getting concerned and pointed out "Nergal was on the Council and he made a mistake". This was apparently wrong. Hastur said smugly "Nergal wasn't Council, check the records, his name ain't there any more, in fact it's not there so much that it was never there in the first place". Everyone knew the Council didn't make mistakes, so Nergal couldn't have been Council. That was that. She tried to argue with him, but he was having none of it, things were the way they were and always had been, even if they hadn't. The trials were fair, even though the results were known in advance, and everything was working as it should be. She gave up, huffing petulantly and suggested lunch as a distraction. They had thick slices of ham with salad and boiled potatoes. Hastur wouldn't eat the salad saying it ‘looked wrong'. He drank virtually all the wine too, leaving her with just half a glass left out of the bottle. She was irritated and somewhat jittery about what Hastur considered ‘fair’ in the light of how ‘political’ prisoners were treated. However, she decided there was no point worrying about Hell's justice, there was nothing she could do about it after all. She also had Hastur looking after her so everything would be fine. She hoped so anyway.

They sorted through a few of the files with Hastur trying to explain how the pits’ processes worked. It was very complicated and in the end he suggested maybe he’d better ask one of the pit demons to talk her through it later. Ligur turned up in the early evening saying Beelzebub would consider their plan with the box. He also had exciting news for Hastur: "they'm givin' you a medal". Hastur was incredibly happy about it. The rationale for the medal seemed to be his status as 'an ordinary demon, a humble denizen of the pits' cemented by the fact he declined high office 'in order to continue to work for the glory of Hell without seeking glory for himself'. He didn't look very humble and she didn't think a Duke of Hell and overseer of the pits was particularly ordinary either. He had, however, definitely declined a place on the Great Committee. The award was called 'The Demons’ Medal for Meritorious Conduct' and would be given to him in a ceremony that Satan himself would attend.

Hastur seemed to assume she'd go with him, but she really didn't want to. Having a brief 'chat' with Satan via the 'outside line' had been enough, she didn't want to meet him in person. She was also very wary of getting herself even deeper into Hell’s politics, it seemed a very dangerous thing to do, which she reflected is what she should have expected of Hell. Basically: she didn’t want to go. Ligur told her, with an evil, amused glint in his eye, "ain't got a choice, invite specified you need to accompany him, 'parently He is interested in you". Uh oh, that did not sound good. Hastur got huffy, saying it was part of her contractual duties to attend important meetings with him anyway. She gave up. She was going to meet Satan. At least it wasn't until tomorrow and they'd got the party in the pits first. She was surprised to realise how much she was looking forward to it. She liked the pit demons and felt grateful for them 'guarding' her and accepting her as a member of their club. They were nice. Possibly vicious and dangerous too, but still friendly and cute.

Despite his protestations Lenore refused to let Hastur have any hand in choosing her outfit this time. She did, however, pick something she thought he'd like. A dress in dark green satin, with black lace over the top and a built in corset section that she tightened enough to emphasise her cleavage. She put on big serviceable boots and, as always, attached the blessed knife on a belt around her waist. Hastur approved of the corset, fingering the lacing with a speculative look in his eye. She pushed him off, but he grabbed her to him sticking his hand up her skirt. He let out a low growl when he found she had stockings on. She had chosen them deliberately for him and it was nice to find he appreciated them. He appreciated them so much he had her bent over the desk again in seconds. Ligur looked on laughing as she tried, and failed, to stop him pulling her knickers down. She’d not been far wrong when she’d told Hastur he was ‘insatiable’. While it was very flattering to be lusted after this much she wasn't sure she was up to it. He seemed to sense her reluctance, letting her go. Perversely this action changed her mind and she wiggled her arse at him saying "don't stop".

No further invitation was required and she felt his hand rubbing her gently, sliding in first one then two fingers. Ligur had moved round for a better look and she suddenly felt irrationally shy. It was too late to worry about it though, as Hastur withdrew his fingers and pushed into her. He was gentle, to start with anyway, and she found she wasn't as sore as she'd feared. She pushed back into him saying "more”. His thrusts got harder and faster and she approved "yes, that's it". She was trying to keep from being slammed into the desk, with a certain amount of success, until Hastur took hold of her arms, twisting them behind her back and used the loose ends of corset lacing to tie her wrists in place. He was thrusting harder and faster and she had no way to stop herself being bashed into the desk. She cried out in pain and Hastur let out an appreciative growl, he was enjoying this, sadistic bastard.

Ligur watched amused as Hastur made advances on his pet. He laughed when she tried to stop him, was confused when he nearly did stop, then happy she'd signalled him to carry on. He liked watching Hastur. He could have guessed he wouldn't be able to leave those laces alone, too good an opportunity. Hastur was slamming her hard into the desk when he decided to help. Just like old times, he'd hold them still while Hastur enjoyed himself.

She was surprised to feel hands bracing her shoulders and looked up to see Ligur in front of her. He held her steady as Hastur slammed into her with alarming violence. She was again at the mercy of two demons. As she thought this she heard Hastur groan as he came. He pulled out and she had a moment of worry in case Ligur wanted a go too. Instead he just untied her hands and, as he waved a hand over her back, she felt the slick feeling go away. She stood up and adjusted her clothing back to a semblance of order. "Right, let's grab some booze and get going then" she said as if nothing had happened. Following it up with a nod to Ligur "cheers" she said mimicking the style of his own 'thank you' from earlier. He just shook his head disbelievingly muttering "weird human".

She got three bottles of champagne from the cellar. 'Not chilled' she said, but neither demon thought that would matter. She shoved them in a bag, then got a separate bag and put in the grimoire and the white blessed bindings, along with a few other bits and pieces. They looked at her quizzically and she said "so we're ready to try that box trick if Beelzebub wants us to". The two demons took hold of a hand each and the world went wobbly.


	30. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another party in Hell - this time in the pits, so ‘no fancy cocktails’
> 
> After a night of frivolities and fun Lenore suddenly finds herself face to face with some unpleasant realities

Back in Hell it was hard to see any difference from the first time she'd visited. Hastur had shifted his grip to her wrist again and Ligur let go entirely. As they stomped through the ill lit corridors, splashing through the puddles, she noticed demons pointing them out. As they got nearer the pits it got warmer and darker. They rounded a corner to find a kind of welcoming committee. She recognised Charu, Brontes and Xaphan and waved. Hastur pushed her forward and she took them by surprise by hugging each of them. She then offered Charu the bag with the bottles. He grinned "this is the fizzy stuff isn't it?" She agreed, he then looked a bit concerned "we ain't got fancy glasses". She assured him it didn't matter.

The party was in the club room and they drank from chipped mugs as before. She showed Brontes how to open the bottles and they shared out the fizz, ensuring everyone got a bit. Most demons didn't finish their existing drinks so had a mix, but they all seemed pleased with the gesture. The young looking pinky white demon who’d written Dagon’s sigil so effectively, sidled up to her tugging at her hand so she bent her ear down to her level. "Did you really talk to Satan?" She asked in hushed tones. She answered "Not to say 'talked' per se, it was more like having your thoughts sucked directly out of your head". The demon looked terrified. "Glad I was safely outside with the Patriotic Resistance" she said. 'Patriotic Resistance' had a nice ring to it, she seemed to recall it was more of a drunken street party.

The drinks flowed, the talk was lively. The pit demons seemed to have a very vulgar sense of humour and Lenore found herself giving up trying not to laugh. Many of the jokes featured Hastur (did he tell you about the time he was up on earth and shagged this lass? When he was leaving she said 'you've forgot the money' an' he says 'I'm a Duke of Hell madam, I don't accept money'). Despite being the butt of some of the jokes he laughed along with them, although she wasn't sure he understood the humour. He seemed to wait to see whether other demons were going to laugh before joining in and sometimes laughed alarmingly for no reason. He seemed comfortable with the pit demons though and occasionally unwittingly made them all laugh by seriously confirming things, or correcting them on minor details, of otherwise frivolously comic stories. Making them laugh seemed to make him happy even if he wasn't sure why they laughed.

After everyone was nicely tipsy they stuck some music on and the dancing began. The speakers tended to cut out so they sang along loudly to fill the gaps. It was hot, noisy and stuffy, but great fun. She had a mock version of a waltz with Brontes, who was trying to demonstrate how the posh demons in the upper halls danced and Hastur spun her into a kind of tango. The drink kept on coming and she was getting very drunk. There was no food to help soak up the alcohol and nothing to drink that wasn’t alcoholic. Although there was a bathroom of sorts, the taps didn’t work well and she didn’t trust the brownish water. She drank a lot more than she usually did and her last memories were of the room spinning wildly while she tried to explain how democracy worked to a confused looking Charu.

She woke up at an awkward angle on one of the club room sofas. Sitting up she realised she had something sticky on her dress and in her hair. Looking up she saw the pipes were leaking and must have been dripping onto her. Yuk. She fished in her bag for a hairbrush to at least get the worst of the stuff out, but brushing just seemed to spread it around. She hoped it looked like she had a deliberately slicked back hair-style, but thought it really looked like she’d fallen in a septic tank. It smelled a bit like she had as well.

She looked around and couldn’t see Hastur, but could see several of the pit demons in various states of collapse. Charu was plaiting Brontes hair, tying little ribbons into it while he dozed. She asked him “where's his Disgrace got himself to?” Charu said, without breaking concentration, “went to the lower pits last night to see the prisoners, think he’s looking for the one what dripped holy water on him. Hope for his sake he don’t find him”. That sounded bad. He offered to go with her to look for him, but needed to finish his plaiting first. She watched mesmerised as he made Brontes 'look pretty' for when he woke up “bugger probably won’t notice for a week, we’ll have a right laugh” he confided grinning at her.

They eventually set off in the direction of the lower pits where the former ‘Loyalty and Justice’ captured on the night were housed. Apparently the minor players hadn’t been sent to Council - they only wanted the ‘big boys’ - i.e. Duke or above. She noted that the rank of Duke was the cut off - so if it hadn’t worked out then Hastur would have been Council whilst Charu would have been pits. She wondered where a P.A. came in the rankings and shuddered to think about it.

They started hearing screams and followed them down a long dark corridor. At the end were three doors with viewing windows, they guessed which one he was in by the small gaggle of lesser pit demons all vying for a view through the small window. One of them hissed “his Disgrace has just found how the electric picana works”. She had no idea what that was and decided she didn’t really want to, but the pit demons were making way for her to take a look and she felt she had no choice.

She peered through the window to see Hastur, coat off, more bloodstains on his formerly white shirt, an apron of some dark material around his waist. On a table next to him were sharp looking implements, she didn’t look too closely but could see some were bloodstained. He currently held what looked like a cattle prod and was standing looking down at a blood smeared naked demon strapped to the chair in front of him.

Hastur sighed and said to his captive “come on, you weren't like this when you were doing me, wake up, eyes open". He pulled the demon's head back by the hair, squinting into his face. "That's better. Now look at me" his voice was low, dangerous. The demon started making a panicked sounding squealing noise, shaking its head as Hastur moved back. The prod fizzled and a choking sobbing noise replaced the squeals. "I said: Look. At. Me" Hastur now sounded angry. The demon snapped its head back to stare at Hastur, trembling all over and still making sobbing noises.

Hastur smiled, then said in a calm, pleased voice "that's better, now hush. Shhhhh, its ok" the demon continued to sob as he carried on talking in a quiet, reasonable way "try to keep still now, it's going to get a lot worse and I don't want you to waste all your energy this early on". He smiled in an unsettling way, leaning in to stroke the demon's face, making it flinch away again. The prod quickly followed and the demon started screaming, shaking its head. Hastur sighed again, but spoke in a calm low, chiding voice "you don't listen do you?” He then shouted loudly: “Look. At. Me" each of the words punctuated by another sizzle from the prod and more screams from the demon.

There was a smell of burning flesh in the air and the sobbing choking noises from the captive demon were horrible. Hastur’s eyes were completely black, she could see no emotion, no pity, nothing but cold blankness there. It was the familiarity of the words and gestures he was using that made her feel sick though. “I’m a bit squeamish” she explained when Charu gave her a look. He was confused “but you let him do stuff to you, we looked up his miracle record - quite nasty some of it, and you sewed him up while he squealed. What’s so different about this?” She couldn’t articulate why, but knew this was very different indeed.

“Can you stop him?” she said quietly, which again confused the pit demon. “It’s only fair, he done it to Hastur so he gets to do it back - that’s one a’ Hers that is: eye for an eye, least he ain’t using holy stuff”. She stopped herself from arguing and turned to go back to the club room, at least she could get away from the sobs and screams. At this point several things happened: the lights flickered off, there was a loud noise, something that looked like emergency red lighting came on and they saw a shape hurtling towards them down the corridor.

Lenore felt herself grabbed and held tightly. The door to the torments room flew open and she saw Hastur, looking angry and still holding the prod. The low red light, the cold blackness of his eyes and his bloodstained clothes sent thrills of fear through her. She was suddenly very aware of where she was and how dangerous it was. This was a place of torture, pain and fear. It was not meant for humans.

Part of her also saw him and rejoiced. His totally demonic appearance, the power he held, the pain he could inflict, the fear in the other demons' eyes. It was so easy for him to hurt or kill. He could do anything to her, she was totally under his control. Yet he wanted to keep her, look after her and play with her. She was his entirely with no chance of escape, his pet to do with as he pleased. Thrills of desire and lust joined the fear.

Lenore took a deep breath. Thinking too much would not help her now, she needed to try to stay calm. She tried to look round to see who was holding her and felt a sharp blow to her head. “Hold still. Dunt you move neither your Disgrace, or your little pet is dead meat”. Hastur immediately said “you’re bluffing” but stopped where he was not looking too sure of himself. 

The demon continued “now I want them rooms opened and all ‘Loyalty and Justice’ is gonna walk outta here nice n’ quiet”. Charu would have run forward but Hastur stopped him. He looked torn, obviously his duty lay with Hell and the pits, but he didn’t seem to want to see her killed either, so he hesitated.

Lenore struggled and got an arm loose, but was then held firmly again. Feeling she needed to do something she yelled “kill him”. Hastur took a step forwards and the demon holding her shifted his arm to round her throat starting to squeeze. What he didn’t realise was that his movement had allowed her to get the knife from her belt. She winked at Hastur, who took a step back and said “alright, alright, let her go first”. Charu looked scandalised but the demon holding her loosened his grip around her neck. It was a big mistake as the next thing that happened was he fell to the floor screaming.

Lenore twisted round freeing herself and gaining her feet. She didn’t stop though, aiming several kicks at the prone demon’s head then leaning down to stab him again, hitting him in the back as he rolled away from her. Hastur pulled her off as she slowly became aware the demon had stopped moving and she had blood on her dress. She looked around at the pit demons who eyed her warily. She was horror-stricken “I didn’t kill him did I?” Hastur kicked the demon who curled up tighter in his protective ball “nah, needs patching up though, an’ them wounds won’t heal by miracles”. He took an obscene pleasure in reaching down and probing the stab wound, wiping the blood on the prone demon’s back as it screamed.

Hastur turned to her with a smile saying “well done pet, better than I coulda done, got him with a holy blade and that really hurts” he put his hand to the stitched wound on his shoulder, wincing as he rubbed at it. He then instructed the nearest pit demon to “get him patched up and charged with treason - attempting to aid an escape, attacking a Duke - y’know the sorta stuff”. The unfortunate demon was hauled off. 

She was very shaken and wished she’d kept her temper better. If only she could explain that she hadn’t wanted to hurt the demon, just get him off her and stop him from being able to attack them. But Hastur looked so pleased and it didn’t seem likely the other pit demons would understand her horror at what she had done either.

The bandage over her brand had come off in the scuffle and she was covered in gunk and blood, so she asked Hastur if they could go back up. He shook his head, "we need to go see Beelzebub now you're awake, and then we got my medal ceremony". She looked down at her ruined dress saying “I’m covered in stuff from the pipes and I’ve got blood all over me, I can’t wander round looking like this”. The collected demons laughed, Charu saying “you look like one a’ us now”. Hastur twirled her round grinning approvingly “pretty pet” then correcting himself “pretty P.A. I mean” she laughed at that. It didn’t look like she had any choice. Wiping the knife off on her own dress she followed Hastur up out of the pits.

Beelzebub was waiting a little way from the doors to the Hall of the Great Committee, which were still propped open. They looked them both up and down, before motioning them to follow. They were reluctantly impressed by Hastur's pet, although confused as to why she was in such a state, they seemed to recall humans usually liked to be clean, but then she was weird. There was, however, no doubt she'd had a significant impact when it came to helping stop the coup. Obviously Beelzebub themselves had stopped the coup but they didn't mind acknowledging they'd had help. Why a human would want to stop a coup designed to delay, or even cancel, Armageddon was a mystery to them. They supposed the human was just a little stupid, no matter how clever she thought she was.

She seemed to have got Hastur functioning well above par too. Although that wasn't necessarily a good thing. They were suspicious about Hastur's offer to resign from the committee 'in order to help oversee the pits' - it seemed a little too devious for him to have thought of by himself. They knew he’d been itching to get back to the pits for centuries. Ligur also seemed to have become suspiciously keen on the human.

Beelzebub wondered what she was up to, surely one stupid human couldn’t have made this much of an impression without something being behind it? Summoning demons out of captivity was such an obvious idea too; they were surprised Hell hadn't thought of it before. All any demon would need to ensure their escape from the pits would be a pet human. Every cell now needed to be lined with insulating materials. They sighed, bloody human, what a time consuming nuisance. 

This idea with the box was potentially useful at least. Capture the coup leaders and hopefully the rest of 'Loyalty and Justice' would fall apart, give themselves up. Not all had been found guilty. Some would be used to help found the new Committee for Hellish Security that Beelzebub intended to personally oversee. A new force in Hell. Maybe they could take over the same building. On second thoughts new premises would be a better idea, easier than insulating the existing one.

The corridors were, as usual, crowded, but the demons they passed were extremely wary of getting anywhere near them. Lenore supposed it was how she looked, but then reflected it was more likely they were simply scared of Beelzebub. They were told sign-off had been given by the Great Committee and they were headed to the House of Unreason to try to trap the spirits of the coup demons. It sounded fantastical to Lenore, who clutched her bag tightly to her and kept one hand on the knife in case of another attack.

The ‘House’ was an unimpressive building in grey concrete with dark tinted windows. It wasn’t large, only going up three floors. Lenore wondered how it could hold so many demons. Hastur said ominously that no-one knew how far down it went. The tinted windows meant they couldn’t tell if they were being watched so they kept a healthy distance. There were tanks and soldiers surrounding the building, but it lacked the party atmosphere of the cordon around the Hall and she guessed that this time they knew what they were doing.

Ligur was there already chatting to one of the uniformed soldiers. He came over when they arrived and looked at Lenore in surprise “you scrub down badly” he said, laughing at his own joke. She ignored him and got the grimoire out saying as she did so “I need some stuff for this”. Ligur called the soldier demon over and she instructed him to fetch some materials - bits of wood and iron, chalk and some sulphur with a dish to burn it in - he looked disbelieving and Ligur said “dunno if it’s strictly necessary but might as well follow the book”.

The equipment assembled she read the book again, together with Ligur’s notes. All eyes were on her and she felt very silly trying to draw symbols and outlines on Hell’s damp floors. She had to ask Beelzebub to add the sigils for the coup plotters. She then started reading out the weird multisyllabic words. She just hoped something happened, and not something terrible. She needn’t have worried, the air started crackling and sparks flew from the iron, setting light to the sulphur, thick smoke started choking her and she had to concentrate to get the words out. The wood burst into decidedly unnatural, greenish flames. There was a feeling like a vacuum being turned on and smoke started being sucked into a dark square where the chalk outlines had been drawn. When the smoke stopped a faint static fizz surrounded a newly formed box that seemed to have shaped itself out of the iron and wood. What looked like lightening crackled once round the outside, then all went still.

Beelzebub said “how do we know what’s in there?” Lenore had no idea, but Hastur confidently picked up the box and tucked it under his arm. “Let’s take it to the pits, the cells there will stop their powers working and we can have a proper look at 'em”. The procession started off again. Down in the pits they garnered a lot of interest and Hastur had to shoo the collected demons away. He dumped the box in a cell and suggested he be the one to open it with the others safely outside. Hastur didn’t seem phased by any potential danger in what he was doing, in fact he seemed to be looking forward to finding out what the box contained. He had some trouble opening it and in the end took a metal crowbar out from his pocket. Lenore tried not to think about how the crowbar had fitted in what looked like normal size pockets, or why it was there at all, but still got some flashbacks to the torments room earlier.

On finally getting it open three slightly translucent figures emerged looking disoriented. Hastur jumped from one foot to the other looking jubilant “turn on the corporation generator” he cried happily. Beelzebub intervened at this point, opening the door and pushing Hastur out of the way “these are not for the pits, we need to transfer them up to the Counzzil Chamber”. He looked disappointed, but then asked “how do we do that? They’re really powerful, we’ll need them bloody well insulated or they could just disappear on the way”. Beelzebub considered.

Lenore cut in asking if the blessed bindings from the House would do. All the demons took a step back and the ghostly shapes of the late-coup demons seemed to edge away too. “Yeah, should do, but we’ll need gloves and stuff, to handle it, that stuff burns” Hastur said rubbing his wrists where the red marks were still visible. After a short while two demons in what looked like hazmat suits arrived and took the bindings off Lenore. They asked her if it was ‘safe’ to bind the demons - ‘wouldn’t it kill them?’ - Hastur was emphatic in the answer “it'll bloody hurt and they won’t be able to miracle, but it won’t kill ‘em, not lest you leave it on for weeks”.

They watched the unhappy coup demons become solid again and scream against the burn from their bindings. Hastur was clearly enjoying the screams and seemed disinclined to leave. He stared at the coup demons speculatively, as if planning what he could do to them. Beelzebub scowled at Lenore who pulled him away. The prisoners were led off and they were left alone.

Lenore said to Hastur in a hushed tone “I saw you in the torments room earlier” he looked at her slightly confused “yeah, what about it?” She tried to explain what she was feeling, but the words didn't seem to fit. She tried a demonic approach “didn’t seem fair, he’s already going to get a trial and sentence, why’d you do it?” His answer was simply one word: “vengeance”. That seemed to close the matter as far as he was concerned. She remembered the slogan “vengeance for all”. So fair trials, but the Council could decide guilt in advance, also not forgetting that all demons are guilty, and before even a fair trial came vengeance.

She was belatedly feeling distinctly wary about Hell, maybe she’d have been better off not making deals with demons. Then she looked at Hastur, his concerned face watching her carefully and felt her heart melting ‘damn Hastur’ she thought affectionately. He took both her hands in his and gazed thoughtfully into her eyes. Tuning himself to read her emotions she thought. His face changed to be all smiles “maggots again, you’re full of maggots all wriggling about tryin’ to get out”. “Yeah, it’s the ‘L word’ sweetheart” he grinned happily, pulling her in for a kiss and dissolving into his own mass of maggots, presumably in sympathy with her imaginary ones.

Lenore reflected it was too late to get out of this now, and she didn’t want to lose Hastur anyway. Were her feeling about what happened in the pits just an overreaction? She was trying to apply human standards to demons so it shouldn’t be surprising if they didn’t fit from time to time. When she’d first read the files she’d told Hastur he was a ‘violent, sadistic, psychopath; cruel, dangerous and totally evil’. At the time she had used the words lightly, to a certain extent holding on to the idea that they were an exaggeration. Well, apparently they weren’t. The reality of what he did, and what he was, was starting to hit her. It made her feel a bit uncomfortable.

Trying to think it out logically she decided she could sympathise with wanting vengeance, she’d felt the same about her late husband and wanting vengeance….or justice....was 'fair' wasn’t it? Especially when he'd had it done to him first. She also decided the fact he was prepared to do it himself showed he wasn’t a coward or a hypocrite and that was positive too wasn’t it? Then there was the demon versus human thing, there was a cultural difference to consider. Was that enough to make it alright? She so dearly wanted everything to be alright, her demon, so beautiful and perfect, she wanted him so much, even if he did torture prisoners. It still didn't sound ok. She sighed, whether she wanted to admit it or not, she did admire him. He didn’t try to excuse what he was or what he did, he was happy to be evil and own that label. He acted on instinct, doing what he wanted to do, what he thought was fair, without fear of consequences. Look at the way he'd rushed to defend the pit demons despite the danger. However, the image of him in the torments room kept cutting through these rationalisations.

Lenore tried hard to think clearly, but her thoughts were racing now, far too fast to keep up with. She couldn’t latch on to any individual thread. The arguments didn't make sense anymore. She concentrated on the warm glow of happiness and desire that he had inspired in her and decided to ignore everything else. She was his now and she was happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a bit of a difficult chapter for me. I like Hastur and have been skipping around some of his more unpleasant traits in the hope that my readers (the few who may have persevered this far) will like him too. He isn’t Crowley though, who seems, by and large, to be a fairly likeable demon if sometimes a bit of a malicious troublemaker. Hastur is genuinely evil and you can’t have a story about an evil demon without him doing a few nasty things…. so it was bound to come to this sooner or later.
> 
> Shouldn't be a surprise to anyone really and there is a nice party first!
> 
> ....trying not to over share but......I'll admit to borrowing from some of my own (dodgy?) rationalisations for liking (my version of) Hastur in this chapter.... I've also been lending Lenore a little of my bipolar 'poor judgement, lack of clear thinking and reckless behaviour when manic/hypomanic'. To be fair hypomamia has a lot of similar symptoms to falling in love so it fits well enough...
> 
> Let me be clear: she emphatically isn't me - there are major differences (which I won't go into). I actually 'borrowed' traits from quite a few people I know to put her together originally and now she's taken on a very distinct persona of her own that surprises even me at times.
> 
> As always: comments and observations are very welcome and give me insights I wouldn't otherwise get. Thanks guys!


	31. A Lowly Pit Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore is covered in Hellish gunk and has to spend yet more time in Hell, at least until Hastur to gets his medal. There’s a few surprises for her in this chapter too….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ‘plot coupon’ of the brand is mentioned again here - it does become important in case you hadn’t guessed already (might have made just a few heavy handed hints!) - also Lenore gets a bit of a jolt regarding how the other demons and Hell in general view her and her arrangement with Hastur - it doesn’t really match up with her own understanding to say the least.

Lenore's queasy sickness had subsided and she realised she was starving hungry, recollecting she’d not eaten since lunch yesterday. Hastur was doubtful about finding any food in the pits, ‘mostly just booze’, so took her up to the upper halls in search of something. While demons didn’t need food a lot of them liked it. Their taste seemed to run mainly to very sweet things, but there were also sandwiches with some sort of paste and something that looked a little like chicken. She asked Hastur what it was, but he had no idea, ‘sommat that used to run about’ was all he could offer. To be on the safe side she had a couple of the paste sandwiches (slimy and salty) and some cake (very sweet with sticky pink icing).

She reflected afterwards that she had no idea what the paste was either. Against her better judgement she asked Hastur if he could find out. He stopped a passing demon who confirmed it was made with with ‘meal-worms and lard' grinning at her as he said it, waiting for a reaction. She’d had some weird foods at embassy receptions before, and remembered how she’d laughed in the face of an American delegate when she told him what haggis was made of, so was determined not to be squeamish at worm paste. It had been pretty unpleasant, but she could hardly go and complain to the chef. She smiled and thanked the strange demon for the information and he went away disappointed.

Hastur bustled off to find drinks. Left alone she looked around warily. It was dingy and the furniture certainly wasn’t new, but it was not as shabby as the club room in the pits. She also noticed that most of the demons were a lot more human in appearance, no horns and mostly normal skin colour. She was getting some funny looks and she remembered her gunk and bloodstained clothes and her stinky hair. For the first time she thought she understood where the pit demons were coming from. She felt scruffy and out of place.

A demon plonked themselves down next to her and she looked round alarmed, only to breath a sigh of relief as she saw it was Dagon. She was all smiles, showing off her sharp teeth, scales shimmering in the flickering overhead light. “You're a sight, that’s what happens when you hang around the pits”, but she continued to smile so Lenore guessed it was meant in good humour. She said she’d not been able to change as they had been busy and had the awards thing later. Dagon looked thoughtful “you should watch it, ‘you know who’ will be at the ceremony, best stay out of His notice”. Lenore explained it was too late, looking depressed. Dagon clearly felt she needed cheering up putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close she said “you’ll be ok, Hastur’s an evil, untrustworthy, bastard but he’ll look after you so long as you’re useful to him”. These were apparently words of encouragement from the demonic perspective.

Lenore looked around but couldn’t see Hastur and was alarmed when Dagon leaned in even closer, pressing her lips to hers. Unsure how to react she ended up responding to the kiss, feeling the points of sharp teeth with her tongue and tasting the strange demon’s mouth: a mix of tart lemon and something fishy. It contrasted with Hastur’s cigarette ash, alcohol and blood taste and Ligur was different again, more metallic. She wondered if all demons tasted different, forgetting to be wary and exploring the other’s mouth with interest. Dagon pulled back after a few seconds, looking earnestly into her eyes, “if he gets bored of you there’s plenty of us would be happy to have you, y’know” she winked broadly. Lenore was starting to feel uncomfortable, as Dagon kept her arm round her and pressed her body in close. She didn’t want to cause offence, but said in what she hoped was an off putting voice “I’m under contract to work for Hastur, I can't just leave”. Dagon replied undaunted: “well, just in case you find yourself at a loose end, make sure you think of me first, I’d value your ‘assistance’ very highly” she said giving a terrifying smile and another wink. “You’ve made an impression y’know? If he gets bored of you then I’m always here, remember that”. With that she got up and left abruptly.

Hastur returned with some cocktails. He took one look at Lenore’s face and asked “what’s up?” in a concerned way. “Think I’ve just been propositioned” she said slowly. He looked at Dagon’s retreating back and bared his teeth “that demon’s a menace, steal anything off of anyone she would. You’re mine and I’m not gonna let anyone else have you”. He didn’t look happy. His declaration of ownership and protection gave her a warm glow, but she remained wary. Dagon’s words had unnerved her, what would happen if she was no longer ‘useful’ to him? She’d just been reminded of how dangerous he was and how easy it would be for her to get killed or hurt down here. She really wanted to get away from Hell as soon as possible. They drank in silence for a bit. At least she had the contract, that gave her some protection. Her duties were defined and Hell had to respect the ‘safe word’ for anything else. It would probably be ok. She hoped so at least.

The demons in the bar were starting to take notice of the two of them. Lenore was feeling very uncomfortable, her unattractive appearance, the unpleasant smell coming from her hair, plus being hit on by one demon with a definite suggestion there were other’s who’d do the same, made her jittery. She pushed herself into Hastur, feeling in need of his protection. He noticed her wary glances around the bar and looked surprised, saying “they ain’t gonna bite ya y’know, well not while you’ve got that knife anyway” he winked at her. She muttered “I look awful an’ I don’t fit in here, everybody’s looking”, he grinned, “now you know how I feel”. She guessed she had picked up some of the pit demon’s insecurities and tried to push the feeling to one side. Hastur didn't seem to mind the smell, or her awful appearance, at least.

After they finished their drinks Hastur announced they needed to head to the Chambers for the ceremony. He was looking very pleased with himself and produced a clean tie from his pocket, it had dark reddish, almost black, diagonal stripes. The colour of demonic blood she thought. He tied it, without looking, into a perfect, even knot, but then pulled it slightly off to one side. She remembered how he’d seemingly ‘accidentally’ ripped his trousers and scuffed his boots too and thought ‘he does it deliberately’ before looking at him guiltily in case he’d read the thought. Hastur was concentrating too much on looking his ‘best’, shifting the frog on his head into a more central position and smoothing down the ragged lapels of his coat. “Ready pet?” he asked. She guessed she was as ready as she’d ever be and allowed him to lead her out of the bar.

The Council Chambers were unpleasantly impressive. The building was carved straight into a cliff of some dark and sickly yellow stones. It presented an appearance similar to many of earth’s large cathedrals, as if in mockery of sacred architecture. Tall arched windows seemed to exude a multifaceted darkness, gargoyles with glinting eyes watched ominously, buttresses flying out from the main structure looked strangely warped, with dark drips constantly falling from their angled surface. The stones themselves seemed to give out a low discordant hum and it felt hot and cold at the same time, making her sweat and shiver simultaneously. The air was oppressive with an unpleasant smell of rotting meat and the very sight of the building seemed to sap her spirit. Shadows were cast from an unseen reddish light source and she had to shake her head to clear a fog of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. She remembered a phrase from Paradise Lost “regions of sorrow and doleful shades”, this seemed to fit the bill and they weren’t even inside yet.

There were a few others gathered outside, she recognised ‘Alan’ and Beelzebub, but that was it. The others were strangers; she hadn’t seen them in the Hall on the night of the coup nor did she recognise them from the pit demons’ party. She thought maybe they’d been outside with the ‘Patriotic Resistance’. Looking at their generally smart appearance she again felt scruffy and under-dressed, even Hastur had his new tie. She glanced up at him and the beady frog eyes looked back down at her from the top of his head, so cute she thought. They all hung about outside for a while, shuffling awkwardly. No-one seemed up to any conversation in the face of the mournful miasma the building produced and no-one seemed to know what was happening. After a time they heard a loud and sinister creaking sound. The doors were being opened. The little party were ushered in. Lenore had to fight her instinct and force herself to step into the building when every fibre of her being was telling her to turn and run.

Strangely, once inside, it felt very pleasant. The windows were letting in a light that hadn’t been apparent on the outside, the floor was of clean swept tiles in a light granite material. The wide entrance lobby was high ceilinged and smelled like a frosty morning, indeed her breath steamed in front of her as they were led through the wide, empty halls. The light was getting brighter and her skin prickled at the cold as she blinked against the dazzle. There was a faint smell of something like incense and they entered an area carpeted in a plush red pile with gold rails at either side. Another set of doors opened and they found themselves on a large raised balcony area with steps at one side leading down to a stage. The ceilings were high, with colourful frescos, the details picked out in gold. There were white stone pillars against red walls and everything seemed bordered in gold. In the ‘stalls’ (for want of a better word) there was a large gathering of ordinary demons who turned to face them as they entered and all stood to cheer.

Lenore thought of Beelzebub’s rallying words decrying the coup holed up in their ‘comfortable, dry chambers’ and realised the truth of them. This was about as far from the pits as you could possibly get, yet here they were, being held in high honour in this palace of splendour and light. Her thoughts betrayed her as she considered the hypocrisy and cynicism of inviting the demons who defended against the elitist coup to bask in privileged glory for all of Hell to see. She supposed that afterwards they would just be expected to go back to the darkness of the pits; once more to stand in the shit under leaking pipes. Their moment in the sun, their fifteen minutes of fame, here to be dazzled and made grateful for this small recognition. 

Hastur was so pleased about getting his medal though, like it made up for everything that had gone before, did all the demons think like this? Was one moment of glory enough to make up for a lifetime in Hell? She tried to suppress this line of thinking, hoping that it wouldn’t be noticed by any of the high ranking demons in the Dark Council. Presumably that was who the serried ranks of dark clad figures on the stage were anyway.

The demons below them all sat and, in the style of theatre audiences everywhere, began shushing each other fervently. From somewhere above the stage came the clarion call of trumpets and the demons all shouted out in a diabolic hosanna. A podium rose from the centre of the stage and the lights dimmed to a glowing red. She admired the ostentatious theatre of it all. It seemed deliberately designed to overawe, so different from everything else she’d seen in Hell. She thought of the bar where they’d had lunch and the club room down in the pits, this was such a contrast, how was it fair? Again she tried to suppress the traitorous thoughts, attempting to fill her brain with the childlike wonder she could see on the other demons’ faces.

Heralded by the trumpets, and anticipated by the praising chants of adoration given out by the demons, a presence began to form on the newly risen podium. She immediately felt the same oppressive terror that had overtaken her at the Hall. The dark mass surrounded by it’s red halo was coalescing into a humanoid shape this time. It was large and red, with a crown of proud horns growing from it’s head and wings of tattered skin flared out behind. As the shape came into focus she could see more details and noted the faint trace of scales on his skin and the rippled muscles. There was a feeling of barely contained menace and danger about him. The demons around her bowed their heads and, so as not to stand out, she did the same.

There followed interminable speeches from all the assembled council members, each in praise of Satan and honouring the brave demons’ of the Patriotic Resistance who stood against the traitors. It was subtly implied that the entire coup was in some way a test of loyalty and that, in fact, Satan had always had matters in hand. In honouring the collected demons they were doing no more than endorsing the loyalty all demons were expected to show. Eventually the speeches came to an end leaving only Satan who hadn't spoken. She half expected to feel his words forming inside her head again, but on this occasion he obviously felt more traditional vocalisation was required. She found herself on tenterhooks waiting to hear what he would say, but his words were conventional.

Satan waved a vague hand at the balcony confirming these ‘ordinary, humble demons who work tirelessly in my service' had been singled out as deserving of notice for their ‘selfless dedication to my leadership and the cause of Armageddon’. The actual procedure from there on in was mundane in the extreme. Like school award ceremonies everywhere they were called to the stage individually, had their hand shaken and were presented with a small shining medal with a black centre, a few words were exchanged and they were ushered back up the stairs to the balcony.

When it came to Hastur’s turn Lenore stood back to let him pass, but was astonished, not to say dismayed, to hear her ‘name’ read out as ‘assisted by his human-chattel whom we also recognise today’. She had no choice but to follow in his wake her thoughts buzzing angrily ‘human-chattel’ indeed, if she found he’d had any hand in that description…

She got no further as they reached the stage and came to stop in front of Satan himself. She again tried to make her mind go blank and think neutrally. He gave her a thoughtful look and his gaze caused a painful buzzing in her head. He held out his hand to her and she took it, wishing she didn’t have to. As she tried to withdraw she felt his grip tighten. It both burned and froze and she couldn’t muster the energy to try and pull away. He turned her arm over, exposing the brand and briefly inspected it, running a finger over the raw scars causing them to throb painfully and glow with a red, Hellish-looking light. He quickly released her and thankfully removed his intense gaze, looking instead to Hastur.

Hastur had been handed his medal and told his loyalty was an asset to Hell and they were all set to leave when Satan said “you have something to ask me” addressing Hastur, who squirmed under his scrutiny. Pulling himself together he said “I'm only a lowly demon from the pits oh Great Ruler of Darkness, but I was wonderin’ ‘bout Armageddon". He dried up at this point, bottling any question he may have had. Satan looked at him thoughtfully “you’re keen, as we all are, to see us fulfil our destiny, to complete the Great Plan and take up our rightful places?” Hastur nodded, terrified, squeaking out “anyfink I can do to help, y’know”. She wished he hadn’t said that. Satan’s answer was dismissive though “Your offer is noted oh lowly demon from the pits”.

They regained the relative safety of the balcony and the ceremony came to a triumphal conclusion with loud trumpet calls and shouts from the assembled demons of ‘liberty, evility, fidelity'. Satan left the stage waving and was quickly followed by the members of the Dark Council. They were led out to a wide hall with, somewhat incongruously, drinks and nibbles laid out on a long table covered by a white damask cloth. The drink was served in fine crystal glasses, a dark red wine with hints of autumnal fruits. It tasted expensive. So this was the posh booze Hastur had referred to. The food was in the form of dainty little bites of colourful looking delicacies, she thought she recognised caviare and was reminded of the buffet at the party she’d first met Hastur. He was obviously thinking the same and stuffed a few of them into his mouth saying “disgusting but expensive - right?” She didn't eat, if they served worm paste with lard she didn't quite trust something that looked like caviar.

Thankfully it didn’t seem they were welcome that long. After half an hour stood about making awkward conversation with circulating minor dignitaries, they were clearly being moved towards the exit.

As soon as they were outside Beelzebub demanded to know what Hastur had been playing at speaking to Satan. He gave a mumbled version of the conversation looking terrified and elated at the same time. Beelzebub shook their head “this will lead to trouble” and stalked off.

Lenore turned to Hastur and hissed “where the heaven did they get ‘human-chattel’ from?” He shook his head “nuffin to do with me pet, dunt even know what it means”. She fumed silently, determined not to explain it further, then warned him in the most vehement terms she could think of: “I hear you use that phrase you’re dead, and I don’t mean discorporated, I’ll gouge your eyes out and feed them to you before disembowelling you with the blessed blade”. He looked suitably impressed: “never fed anyone their own eyeballs before, good idea that, well ‘bad’ idea, but y’know, clever, they’d see ‘em going down. Horrible” and grinned widely. She tried again “so we’re clear you are not ever going to use that phrase right?” he agreed reiterating “dunt even know what it means” a slight whine in his voice. She added “and don’t go round asking what it means either”. He looked crestfallen, but nodded agreement.

She relaxed, looking at him and smiling slightly. She didn’t mind being ‘his’ but wanted it to be clear that it was her choice to be so. She wasn’t a ‘chattel’ whatever Satan may have said. The contract protected her from Him at least. She was tired and fed up. Hell was not a nice place to spend a lot of time in, which, to be fair, was as it should be. She stunk like eggy compost and desperately wanted to wash, so asked Hastur if he could take her home. Hastur didn’t seem to mind, in fact he looked at her quite fondly and put an arm round her, kissing her gently on the forehead. He kept his arm round her, holding her close, as he led her to a part of Hell that got a signal. She thought it nice he was so affectionate and sighed happily as the world got fuzzy and she finally got out of Hell.


	32. Maybe I’ll Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from Hell at last Lenore intends to have a well deserved shower and relax. Hastur however, has other plans. After what she’s seen in the pits will she still be ok with this?
> 
> **trigger warning for blood and cutting**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of a lull in the action for a couple of chapters, but then the plot will pick up again - in a slightly different direction.

Back home Lenore headed straight upstairs and Hastur followed. She took off her stained dress and fended off Hastur’s hands, removing her underwear and pushing him out the way so she could get in the shower. Turning the water on she breathed a sign of relief as she watched the blackish, greenish and entirely Hellish substances washed down the drain in a swirl of bubbles. The shower was a large walk-in variety much beloved of posh hotels, with a large square shower-head designed to produce a ‘waterfall’ effect. In reality the mineral rich water of London quickly clogged up the nozzles and you ended up with a much less than waterfall like effect, but it was clean and warm, which was what mattered right now.

Hastur watched her, interested in the proceedings. He was aware humans felt the need to do this sort of thing, but didn’t really understand why. He’d never bothered to watch close up before. It was odd. He also wanted to watch her carefully after she’d reacted so oddly regarding his vengeance in the pits. Vengeance was his by right, it was his closure. He'd technically gone light on the other demon by ending the session early and not using holy stuff, so he was a bit confused why she seemed to think it wasn’t fair. No, he was well within his rights to claim vengeance on the demon. It’s not like he even disputed it. He’d actually seemed proud of what he’d done.

Hastur had been very surprised to find that virtually all of the Nergalists seemed to think they’d acted in Hell’s best interests. Some of them even said they believed Armageddon wouldn’t ever happen and it was a waste of time to devote Hell’s limited resources to it. They thought they should be improving Hell and trying to get rid of the unfairness themselves not rely on winning a war at some distant point in the future. He thought this was utter rubbish - Armageddon was the only way to extract vengeance and without vengeance there could be no fairness. It was what they’d been working towards since the fall, the whole point of their continued existence, to abandon it was a ridiculous notion. Besides, it was written, it was part of the great plan, it couldn’t just be ignored.

Hastur was also concerned as he felt Lenore had got confused between the torments he did to her and the ones he did for work. He wasn't sure why. He'd told her before that she was different, so saw no reason for her to worry about it again now. He needed to do something though, in case she tried to stop him from hurting her. He really wanted to hurt her. The contrast with the demon in the pits would taste so sweet. He yearned to hear her begging him to stop, at the same time asking him to continue. Filling his senses with lust and desire on top of submission and her more understandable reaction to the pain. The thought of it was making him hard.

Reaching for the hair conditioner she realised Hastur was also stood in the shower, just shy of the actual water, watching her in an interested way. She jumped and he took the opportunity to ask “why’d you want to get all that bubbly smelly stuff on you then wash it down the drain?” She was not in the mood for his naive style of questions right now having had, what she considered to be, a fairly traumatic time of it. “It's called washing, I stink” she snapped back. He cocked his head to one side saying “you said you liked my smell and I don’t use that stinky bubbly stuff”. She huffed at him, then agreed she did like his smell, but it was decidedly not a human smell. She elaborated a little saying “you don’t smell like the stuff that comes out of those pipes anyway, you've got your own smell”. He looked happy. “I've bin cultivating it” he confided “keep a bit of sulphur in me pocket and have a wade in a pond every now an’ again”. Yes, she decided, he did smell like he'd been wading in ponds: silty, stagnant ponds with layers of organic mud at the bottom and probably dead stuff too - murky and rotten, she wasn’t sure why she liked it.

She finished her shower and turned the water off. Hastur didn’t move, still standing looking at her from the other end of the shower. He suddenly made a move, grabbing her and pulling her to him. He kissed her deeply, sliding his hands up and down her wet, naked body as he did so. It felt nice. He pushed her against the wall of the shower and picked her up. She wrapped her legs round him and grabbed his shoulders to keep her balance. They continued kissing for some time and she could feel stabs of desire running down her stomach. He eventually let her down and asked in true Hastur style “you want me to fuck you now don’t you?” she nodded her agreement.

They ended up on the bed with her on top of him and she started undoing the dishevelled coat, followed by the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. It was only as the burns and few remaining dressing pads became visible that she remembered his injuries. She pulled back asking if he was alright and he laughed “had so much worse than this". Lenore still looked uncertain "are you sure it's ok?" He squinted at her "stop worrying and get my cock out now, there’s a good pet”.

This was going well he thought, he’d warmed her up nicely, even let her undo his shirt. It was cute she was worried about him after the injuries he'd sustained too. Torments in Hell were fairly common and, even though his had been a particularly nasty one, he'd got his vengeance. It was over and done with. He could sense she was simmering with lust now, clearly wanted him, he knew she would be wet for him. Maybe he’d run with this, see where it ended up. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to hurt her this time, but he did want to, so very, very much.

He was already partly hard and she put her hand around him making him fully erect with a few pulls. Clearly thinking he’d better take charge of the situation he said “seein’ as how I’m injured you gotta make all the runnin’. Go on. I’ll tell you if you’re doin’ it right”. She smiled at him bending down and taking him in her mouth, after just a few passes she sat up again and he looked disappointed until she mounted him sliding down onto his cock in one smooth movement.

Lenore moved slowly at first, as if she was worried about hurting him. He instructed her in a stern voice: “faster”. She sped up reaching a hand down to touch her own clit while she moved herself on him. He instructed again “faster”, as she sped up even more he said “faster” for a third time. She now had to move both hands to brace herself against his chest and was bouncing as hard and as fast as she could manage when he said it again, this time she shook her head. He grumbled “I gotta do everything round here” sitting up and neatly flipping her round onto her back without disengaging himself. He pulled her legs up and she crossed them round his back. Grabbing her waist he thrust into her hard and fast a few times saying “that’s better”. He then stopped, taking hold of her wrists and, using the belt from his coat, gathered them together and lifted her tied hands above her head, looping the belt around the bedstead and anchoring them in place.

He thrust into her again a few times looking down at her with a grin on his face. “Now you’re mine” he said suddenly stopping all movement, his cock buried deeply inside her. He mused “maybe I’ll hurt you for a bit”. She looked scared. He liked tasting her fear, but only when it was mixed with submission, lust and desire. This time she just felt scared. Not what he wanted. He needed to reassure her, make sure she was ok with him doing this. This was really important to him, his pet needed to obey him, give in to his demands and enjoy doing it. That was the key: willing submission. He didn't want to force her, he could do that to any human, had done in fact, many times. This was different, he wanted her to agree to it, to want him to do it.

Her thoughts had immediately gone back to the torments room in the pits and something near panic had set in. As if reading her thoughts he adopted a calming voice telling her “don’t be scared pet, I told you before, you're different. This isn't work or vengeance. I just want to play with you. You like it when I play with you don't you? You like being mine". She relaxed a little and he asked her “are you going to be good for me? Let me play with my pet?” She was still scared, but said “yes” in a small quiet voice. He didn’t make a move to start straight away, for which she was grateful, instead he kissed her slowly and for a long time before pulling up.

He looked down at her. He could tell she was still scared and he wasn’t sure she’d really meant that ‘yes’. It wasn’t any fun if she didn’t want it too. He needed to make sure she was willing, he needed this so much. He spoke calmingly “you need to remember your word pet. You're in control, you can always stop me and if you want me to slow down just say. I don't want to do it unless you want it too. It's your choice to be my pet".

His face was serious and, as he stared into her eyes, waiting for her decision, she felt her mood flip. The room in the pits was forgotten, now she longed to be his pet, to let him play with her, satisfy his need. She was tingling and buzzing with lust as she said “I want you demon, I'm your pet, play with me, please”.

He withdrew, leaving her empty and whining for more “patience” he said, as he reached in his pocket. She again had a moment of panic when she remembered the crowbar, but it was his knife he pulled out flipping the butterfly blade round and lowering it to touch her collarbone. That was better, but not much better. She took a couple of deep breaths while he watched her carefully. 

Hastur had thought about what he wanted to do and decided that, maybe if he told her more about it, she would be calmer. He adopted a gentle reassuring voice. "Not going to cut you badly pet, just a few little ones, not too deep. It will hurt, but you'll be ok, I won't let you bleed too much. I'll make sure you're ok". That was good. He could feel her relaxing.

"Alright to begin now pet?” he asked and she nodded with enthusiasm. The main feeling he was getting was lust now, but the undercurrent of fear was still enough to add a frisson of excitement to it. She’d given in to him sooner than he had anticipated. Even when she was really scared she had still wanted him. He knew he must be careful this time though, not even get close to losing control. Don’t push her too far, keep it delicate and intimate, make sure she wasn’t scared again, or at least not scared too much. She should be a little scared, this was going to hurt. He let his eyes close for a second, yes, he was going to hurt her again and she would scream for him. He waited a second longer making sure he was fully in control of himself before starting.

Hastur applied the blade, gently dragging it just below her collarbone. It stung, the pain getting worse the longer he did it. He did the same on the other side and she started pulling against the bindings holding her hands “don’t move pet, you gotta stay still for me” he said in a low, growling tone that sent a wave of lust coursing through her. The next cut went centrally down her breastbone, not deep but it hurt more this time. Her breath hitched but she did her best to hold still.

Lenore could feel him making more cuts across her stomach and, as he wiggled the blade, she cried out and couldn’t help but move a little. She felt his hand pressing down, holding her steady and a searing red hot pain came from her hip area as he dug the blade in deeper. This time she screamed and made no attempt to stop herself from pulling away.

Hastur cautioned himself, he must be careful, keeping the delicate balance was difficult but so worth it just to hear that scream. He’d made her do that, he controlled her now, his decision whether she would scream or sob or beg him for more. Oh it felt good, but only if she wanted it, submitted to him and gave herself willingly. He shushed her gently whispering to her “s’ok pet, I know you can be good for bit longer, you’re not bleeding too much. If you're not sure just say your word”. He suddenly had another idea, a way to prolong it, he’d give her another option “or do you want a break? We can slow down”. Her breathing was coming in quick pants as she thought about it.

Looking up she saw the demon's black eyes as he waited, the bloodstained knife in his hand, poised over her, ready. He was watching carefully, waiting to hear what she wanted him to do. She was hit with a wave of lust. Oh, she really did want him to hurt her, make her scream again. The fact he was waiting for her to offer herself, tell him he should hurt her, ask him to dominate and control her just made her want it even more. "Please, don't stop" she hissed out quickly, immediately she felt his hands touching the cuts. 

As the pain increased with pressure she made urgent, panicked noises on each exhale. The pain was making her feel floaty. As he made new cuts it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the new bright and sharp highlights of pain jumping out against the background burn. She gave in to the sensation, letting it take over her senses, revelling in the loss of control. Crying helplessly as she half-screamed at each new cut. As the world got more fuzzy she started to worry about the bleeding and tried to look down to see what he was doing. She couldn’t quite see and, as she twisted, he snapped at her “stay still”.

He was worried he might slip and seriously injure her if she moved suddenly and had shouted at her instinctively. When she sobbed at his sharp words he looked up, realising he needed to be more gentle and reassuring. His next words were almost an apology “didn’t mean to sound cross pet, you’re being really good, so good for me. I know it hurts but you gotta try to stay still for me, can you do that?” She said ‘yes’ between the tears, his calming words, his praise of her making her feel better.

The quiet ‘yes’ made bolts of lust shoot through him, it was worth the soft words just to feel this, her agreement, explicitly given, was bewitching. He again cautioned himself against pushing too far. He wanted to make sure she wasn't panicked again, he needed his pet to enjoy her submission, become his willingly. He thought he'd make sure she meant her 'yes' again, saying "you're only bleeding a little, I'm not going deep pet, just enough so I can hurt you. You’re so good pet, you're sure it's ok if I carry on?" She agreed more confidently this time.

The pain increased again and she closed her eyes tightly clenching and unclenching her hands in an effort not to move. Hastur purred at her “that’s it pet, you’re doing so well, so good for me”. She could feel the blade being drawn down towards her groin and felt a sudden wave of fear threaten to overwhelm her. He obviously sensed it and said “not going down any further pet, you’re ok, just try to relax, it’ll help reduce the bleeding”. She tried to take another deep breath but was too worried about the movement digging the blade in deeper. She was hyperventilating now, panting hard and fast. He sat up showing her the blade which gave her the confidence to breath a little deeper.

He licked the blood off his knife and wiped it on the sheets before flipping it round and pocketing it again. Thinking it was over, she started to fully relax, feeling the lust coming back stronger than ever. “Not quite finished with you pet” he said, enjoying the way fear briefly flitted across her face before she got control of herself. He felt her forcing herself to relax, calming herself as she looked up at him. It gave him such a rush.

His words had made her immediately tense again, not unwilling, just uncertain what more he wanted of her, would demand from her. She still felt the lust though, the joy in submitting to him, letting him do this. She asked slightly nervously: "are you going to cut me again?" He answered in a low voice "no, just wanna taste you pet" sending thrills through her. Lenore felt him gently kissing and licking along the cuts, following the same pattern he’d made them in.

It was only really painful when he used his tongue to push open the wounds and she twitched at the sensation crying out at the sharpness of it. When he reached the cuts he’d made on her hip, then stomach she started getting seriously aroused by the proximity of the licks and kisses to her groin and moaned softly. She knew the cuts didn’t go that far down though and caught herself wishing he hadn’t stopped short. She heard him chuckle as if he’d read her mind and then she cried out as he stuck his tongue deeply into a cut made in the hollow below her stomach making bolts of pain shoot through her.

He lifted his face and, with the green patches, totally black eyes and smears of blood on him, he looked truly demonic. The sight of him like that totally overwhelmed her and she groaned loudly feeling desire and want pulling at her. “Beautiful demon, I need you, please, now” she managed to say between the waves of lust.

He grinned taking one finger and running it down her body probing at the cuts making her cry with pain again. This time he didn’t stop until he reached her clit gently swirling round it with his blood soaked finger and then pushing it inside her. Pulling out he lifted the finger to his mouth sucking it clean saying “you taste so good pet” and she whined in response.

That had been intense for him as well as her. Watching her yield to him, go from a frightened unwilling victim to this: whining and moaning beneath him, desperate for him to continue, disappointed even that he’d stopped when he did. She was amazing and she made him feel so good. Time to reward her he thought, although this time it was a reward for him too, he wanted to feel her, possess her, experience more than just her submission to the pain. Looking down at her a wave of lust hit him.

He carefully lifted her legs and she wrapped them around him. He entered her slowly, his thick cock sliding deep in and making her throw back her head with the intensity of the sensation. He began a steady rhythm pulling nearly all the way out before pushing back in. She was moaning at the pleasure of it, the pain from the cuts was now just a low background burn that seemed to concentrate the sensation. He gradually began speeding up, the thrusts getting harder until he was almost slamming into her. He leant forwards pulling her up onto him and pushing hard into her. After a few more thrusts she could feel him swelling inside of her and he came with a groan.

After a few seconds he pulled out looking down at her saying “you’re all over blood pet, but don’t worry it’s only oozing. Good job you undone my shirt though, I’d be soaked”. She giggled and a concerned look crossed his face. “Maybe don’t move too much, not until I heal these pet”. He reached above her and released her hands sitting back on his knees and allowing her to sit up slightly and inspect the damage. The blood was smeared all over her, with dark red wounds still bleeding, but, as he’d said, it was only oozing. The bleeding was not free flowing.

He told her to wait while he went through to the bathroom and returned with two towels, one wet, one dry. He hovered his hand above the slashes, healing them. First he took the wet towel and gently used it to rub her chest and stomach, cleaning away the blood. Then drying her off with the other. “Ok now pet?” he asked, she hummed and answered dreamily “yeah, very ok, thank you”.

He smiled at her “my pretty little pet, you're so good for me”. He then said seriously “I wasn’t sure if you’d let me do that. You seemed scared and not good scared”. She answered frankly “I was scared, you are a demon and.....and what you do is scary. You’re terrifying. Oh but so very, very beautiful". She sighed, feeling warm and floaty, high on the endorphins. Hastur liked being called terrifying, but he didn't want her to be terrified of him. That would spoil things. He decided to reassure her again "I want you happy not scared pet. You sure you're ok?" She gazed into his eyes saying "I'm better than ok sweetheart, I'm yours". He was satisfied with that response and smiled back at her.


	33. Falling and Lullabies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-part chapter with a lot of past events worked in:
> 
> Firstly: a continuation from the previous chapter with some personal stuff from Hastur - he finally talks about the fall, plus a hint as to Ligur’s history too. 
> 
> Secondly: settling down after the coup - I do sneak a bit more smut in here too, but we then move onto more from Hastur’s past and where Ligur first came in.
> 
> **warning for maggots, scratches and blood if you don’t like those sorts of things**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only link between the two parts of this chapter is Hastur’s introspection and it may be they would have been better as separate chapters. I’m not sure. Longer writing isn’t my usual thing so I’m still learning!
> 
> I’m getting drawn into a lot of re-writing as I think of new things to add - hope it’s still holding together as a story and I haven’t managed to sidetrack myself with lots of irrelevant musings on my headcanon for Hell and the various characters….
> 
> Anyway, the plot is about to pick up again after this in a fairly major way - so less lullabies and more action.

Hastur lay back on the bed and allowed Lenore to examine his injuries, she said the burns needed cleaning. He grumbled about her 'human obsession' with cleaning things, but motioned for her to carry on. She used the wet towel to dab at his chest making sure the burns were clean. He thought it was funny that she sneakily tried to clean as much of the rest of his chest as she could at the same time. Humans were weird. She then took a look at the wound on his shoulder, noting with annoyance that one of the stitches had ripped. The cut hadn't reopened much though, so she decided it would be ok to leave it.

Lenore ran her hand over the uneven scarred areas of his chest loving the feel of the skin. She then leaned over him kissing and lapping at a rough green area, revelling in the slightly bitter taste that was unique to him. He tousled her hair as she continued playing her tongue over the patch saying "you're a weird little human aren't you?" She hummed in response, resting her head on his chest and breathing in his scent (sulphur and ponds apparently), feeling like she may indeed be filled with wayward maggots all trying to escape.

She asked "what's it feel like when you turn into maggots? How do you control them?" He grinned "looking for tips to control your L word maggots are you?" She shook her head "just want to understand how it works, how do you feel what they're all up to at once?" He thought that demon's brains worked differently to humans. "It's like all of you is in each one, but they're all little parts of the whole you. Like there’s lots of you all over the place, but you’re still in the middle". He wrinkled his nose before falling back on more familiar territory "it's just different that's all". He perked up a bit, giving an evil grin and saying "you want me to fill you full of maggots and make you cum?" She considered. "Yeah, alright".

He instructed her to lie back, lift her arms up out of the way and spread her legs. It was testament to how much things had changed that she felt no disgust as they wiggled over her body. She thought of each individual maggot as just being an extensions of 'her Hastur’. Feeling them on her was simply pleasurable. Totally surrounded and filled by him she felt entirely possessed and willingly gave herself up utterly to the sensations. A familiar suckling feeling started on her clit and she felt the masses inside of her pulsing, stretching and filling her.

Throwing back her head she tensed as the desire built up, her hands clenching above her. She had to concentrate to remember to breath. Her hips started to lift slightly as waves of an intense euphoria rushed over her before she reached the peak and her climax crashed down over her, making her cry out involuntarily at the strength of it.

She lay still, stunned and unable to move for several seconds feeling the masses withdrawing from her. As before, she rose to kiss the shifting mess of tiny bodies, feeling them becoming Hastur again. Finally, feeling him whole again, she opened her eyes and, looking deep into the inky pits above her, breathed out in a rushed confession "I love you so much it hurts". 

Hastur looked concerned "isn't the L word meant to feel nice?" She fell back against the pillows. "It's like there is so much emotion inside of you that you might burst. People kill for love, die for it, start wars over it. All the extremes of obsession, jealousy and violence are inspired by love. It's dark and dangerous and painful. It’s also a kind of ecstatic, fierce joy that burns so beautifully it's like staring at the sun. You feel utterly out of control, it's terrifying and wonderful all at the same time". She calmed down a little mumbling "don't know how to explain it really, but it's more than feeling like you're full of maggots".

He stared at her thoughtfully and she squirmed, feeling embarrassment at her over-the-top speech in the scrutiny of his steady gaze. "Sorry, forget it, I'm being silly". Hastur still didn't speak, his hand stroked her damp hair gently from her face. Finally he said, "I still just get maggots pet, reckon that's all the emotion us demons were left with. She took the rest from us when we fell". He looked so despondent that she grabbed him, pulling him into her and holding tight. She could feel tears forming in her eyes as she said "it's not fair". His next words didn't make it any better "s'ok pet, I'm used to it" and this time she really did cry.

When she finally released him she was surprised to see something that could be a hint of tears in his eyes too. He turned away quickly so she couldn't be sure, maybe it was just her imagination. "Took days, y'know, to fall" he said in a flat voice, still half turned away from her. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something so she asked "do you remember much about it?" 

He cleared his throat, or possibly sobbed she wasn’t sure, but he answered matter of factly, still in the same flat, emotionless tone: "nah, not much anyway, mainly the feeling of leaving somewhere soft and light then the terrible falling into darkness goin' on forever, and the pain from landing in that bloody fiery lake, all round with jagged rocks it was too".

He shifted slightly, sniffing and rubbing his nose and still not looking at her. "I crawled out myself y'know. Some of the others was helped. No-one helped me". He sounded resentful and proud at the same time. He added "screaming I was, screaming for hours with the pain of it and no-one helped me”. His voice broke slightly at the last words and she felt her tears starting again in sympathy.

He only paused for a few seconds before starting up again on a more cheerful note this time. “I did get help in the end though. Help to patch up the damage that is, it’ll never heal properly. He still came to help me, even after what they done to him cuz of me, he still came to help".

He stopped, having only given her a half-explanation. She guessed it was Ligur who had helped, but she didn’t know what he meant by ‘after what they done’. Who were ‘they’, what had ‘they’ done and why was it because of him? Hastur continued before she could frame a question.

"It was 'orrible in Hell at first, stunk of burning flesh and all the wailing an' moaning, proper depressing. We fixed ourselves up alright though dint we? S'not too bad now is it?" She wasn't sure if he expected an answer. He didn't wait for one. "We built all that what you seen" he said ungrammatically. "The Hall an' the Chambers an' all the offices n' stuff. Then the whole place flooded. Can you believe it? Fire and hot winds blasting you one minute, next minute you're soaked through. Nasty mean trick that was".

He continued in a more familiar vein "just wish we could get this war over an' done wiv, get back up there n' kick their heads in, smug wankers. It ain't fair what they done to us". There was a slight change in his voice, maybe a bit of a wobble in it, as he carried on "it ain't fair what they done to me. I used to glow y'know, all white n' gold. I was beautiful. Now look at me". He turned to her and she did as instructed, looking intensely at him. "I think you're beautiful now, you're perfect as you are and I don't want you to glow, it sounds most peculiar".

He made a choking sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. "You're weird though pet. Not that I want to start glowin' neither, not anymore. I’m a demon forever now, even when we win the war there’s no going back. I won’t ever be a glowing angel again”. She didn’t know what to say so fell back on something she was sure about “I fell in love with the demon you, I don’t want you to change”. He went back a step reiterating “it ain’t fair though, you shoulda seen me as an angel, much prettier”. She shook her head decisively “no, I don’t want an angel I want you”.

His eyes misted over again and he wrapped his arm round her, pulling her into him and holding her tightly, almost tight enough to stop her breathing. After a few seconds he started speaking again with just a slight edge of anger to his words. "Them angels are gonna get vengeanced good n'proper come the war. Not just me neither, when Ligur gets hold of the ones who.…"

He stopped completely mid-sentence, then continued with an air of finality "enough of that, no point talking about it". He kissed the top of her head and, releasing her, said in a more normal voice "better get a new bandage on your brand pet, you don't want any dirt getting in". 

Lenore didn't push it, although she was very curious. It felt significant enough that he'd told her anything though. It had obviously not been easy to talk about it, so to question him further didn't seem fair. Instead she collected the bits she needed to re-bandage the brand and got him to help fix the latest dressing in place. "It's healing well, you'll be just like me soon" he said sounding pleased and she smiled happily.

The weeks after this highly personal conversation were mundane; they passed quickly and were almost entirely taken up with work. Hastur stationed Charu up in Lenore’s library on a semi-permanent basis to show her what to do with the hearing and trial paperwork.

Charu looked at them strangely when he first came up, waiting until Hastur had gone to ask “why did he hesitate in the pits when that traitor had you?”. She answered “I think it was cuz I had my knife and the bastard would suffer more being stabbed with a blessed blade”.

She hoped that wasn’t true, but it was a possibility she'd considered and it seemed like the best explanation to give the pit demon. The answer seemed to satisfy him and the subject was never mentioned again.

Various other of the pit demons were in and out as well. She’d completely given up on having any control over it. It didn’t matter as she’d grown fond of them and they were quite helpful, Xaphan especially was really good with the fire. She settled into a routine of making breakfast for them to be taken in the library, but breaking for lunch in the dining room, with an evening meal that often consisted of a take-away. Charu did the washing up and she taught him a bit about cooking, as with Hastur he was very wary of all the dangerous kitchen equipment though, so didn’t do much.

Hastur popped in every few days, but rarely stayed long. Ironically she seemed to have gone from ‘no strings’ to nothing but string. The paperwork was never-ending and it felt like she hardly saw him. She was really starting to miss him, but knew he was very busy with the trials so didn’t make a fuss. Her brand had healed and the raised outline was a comfort to her, she would stroke it and think of him, chiding herself for being pathetic, but unable to help herself. 

He turned up one evening saying he was going to stay and shooing Charu and Xaphan back down to the pits. “Are you managing ok?” he asked. “Miss you” she answered truthfully. He looked a little guilty, saying “bin busy pet, the trials will be over soon, then it’ll be back to the usual stuff…. and overseeing the pits of course”.

She thought it was never going to be over, he had too much work - even with her additional help and Charu working all hours. She didn’t say anything though, as she knew he was still really happy to have got the pits back and she didn’t want to spoil their time together talking about work. He asked her what she wanted to do and she grinned saying “reckon I want you to fuck me” taking his hand and leading him upstairs.

Lenore sat on the bed, suddenly feeling a little shy. She asked him “can you get your claws out for me?” He immediately grew out long, sharp, talons and held them up for her inspection. She dragged one lightly along her palm, feeling the edge catch against her skin, pulling off the first layer and leaving a red mark. The discomfort, the not-quite-pain from the scratch, triggered a feeling of overwhelming need, she wanted to submit and feel him hurting her, be his pet again.

“Will you scratch me?” she asked, embarrassed. He gave her a look of longing and made a low growling noise. She carried on in a rush, not sure how he would react to her unusual request “do it slowly so I can feel each one, tie me down, make me scream, make me bleed, make me yours”. He groaned at that “gonna make me cum if you carry on like that”. She smiled at him saying “you can do that too, just hurt me first. Please”. He miracled off her clothes immediately, asking her where she wanted him to scratch. She hadn’t thought this far saying “wherever you want” which made him growl again.

Hastur hadn’t fully planned what he wanted to do. He’d been thinking about using a knife on her again, that had been fun and it was more intimate. He’d wondered if that was what she needed right now. He certainly hadn’t expected her to come up with her own suggestion. He’d meant what he said about her making him cum, he almost didn’t need to hurt her to get the buzz this time. Just hearing her ask, describe what she wanted like that, was enough to send thrills down him.

Obviously he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to hurt her though. He was just surprised she was asking him to do this. His pet was amazing, exactly what he needed. He felt suddenly very affectionate towards her, an unusual feeling for a demon, he found he quite liked it.

He got her to lie on her front. As the cords wrapped themselves around her ankles and wrists she could feel stabs of desire and fear like lightening bolts. Her whole body was over sensitive and when she felt the tips of his claws resting against her back she moaned with desire. “Tell me what you want again, ask me to do it” he demanded in lust filled tones, she repeated her earlier request adding ‘please’ and hearing him groan at the word.

She felt the sharp pain starting at her shoulder and tried to push herself down to get away from the contact. His claws dragged slowly down her back and she imagined she could feel blood rushing to the area. The first pass wasn’t very deep and, although it had hurt, it was quite bearable, she wasn’t even sure if he’d drawn blood. She said breathlessly “more, please, make me scream, please”.

He had to concentrate not to lose control at her words. She was practically begging him to hurt her and it felt wonderful. She wanted him to make it really painful and just thinking about it made him ache to tear at her skin, make her scream so loudly it would hurt his ears, feel her desperation for him to stop, but have her still ask him to continue. He really wanted this. He took a deep breath, ‘don’t spoil it’ he scolded himself, she wanted him to do it slowly and he wanted to make her happy.

The second time he dug his claws in further and did make her scream. He pulled them slowly and deliberately down her back, prolonging the pain almost to the point it was unbearable. She definitely thought she could feel blood leaking from the wounds and they were burning even after he had finished.

She lay panting and he said “you’re such a good pet, so well behaved for me. Do you want more?” She answered without hesitation “yes please” hearing Hastur’s growl and tensing herself for the coming pain. His claws dragged down again and felt like he was cutting her to the bone. She was straining against her bonds now, sobbing into the bed, unable to get away from him. He carried on scratching until he was past the small of her back and scratched her bottom, finishing with a flourish. She lay sobbing under him feeling the gouges burn and prickle as they bled. 

He tasted her emotions, her desires and fear, and it was nearly too much for him. If he heard her say ‘please’ one more time he might really lose it. Trying to stay calm he put his face close to hers, kissing her gently and tasting her tears. He murmured softly “you're so good for me. Don’t forget we can stop any time, I won’t start again unless you tell me to. Just tell me what you want pet”.

She took a deep breath, his soft words made her feel so good, she was his pet and she was making him happy. It really hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to how this made her feel. She was high and floaty, happy and triumphant. She just about managed to say 'more' between sobs and felt his claws resting on her shoulder again.

This time he went diagonally and she felt the new wounds tugging at the edges of the older ones. She screamed loudly managing to shout “no” between breaths then burying her head as far as she could into the bed. Even when he finished she still felt the throbbing, burning pain. Hastur was hovering his claws just above her back, but she didn’t know if she could manage any more. She wanted to though, wanted to try and be good for him, always for him.

He hummed, thinking he could stop now, she’d done so well and he was feeling so high from it, he could stop couldn’t he? He didn't want to push too far, but she hadn't said her word and hearing those screams felt so good. This had been her idea so it was her choice, he reasoned and whispered tentatively into her ear “you've been so good, we can stop now if you want. It's all up to you little pet. Tell me what to do". She was struggling to speak between the sobs. He waited anxiously. When she managed to catch her breath he heard her whisper "one more".

Hastur's hands were shaking from the rush. He hadn't thought she could endure more, tasting her heightened fear and pain levels, but her lust was so strong too. It almost overwhelmed him. He wanted everything at once now, to hurt her and fuck her, to hear her screams and moans all together. His pretty, wonderful, pet. His eyes closed momentarily, he wasn’t going to start until he was sure he wouldn’t go too far.

After a long pause he started scratching her from the opposite shoulder. The slowness of the movement and the pressure he applied made her scream even before he started crossing the existing marks. She cried out asking and begging him to stop, but it wasn’t until he reached the centre of her back and it felt like he was flaying all the skin from her that she finally shouted “deal, gotta stop”. His hand was immediately lifted and she cried into the bed, the pain still raw and burning.

Hastur released her and sat back against the head of the bed. He got his cock out, stroking it as he watched her finish sobbing. She was so pretty when she cried like this. The outward signs of her distress together with the weird euphoria and lust that she was projecting were seriously arousing to him. If it was up to him he'd grab her to him and fuck her right now, hard and fast. The way she’d screamed and struggled, the way she’d asked him to carry on and forced herself to be his pet, had filled him with lust and desire. He wanted to possess every part of her and claim her entirely as his. This was her night though, it was up to her what they did next. He continued lazily stroking his cock, watching her cry, and wondering what she would do now.

Lenore still had tears in her eyes and was shaking when she climbed on top of him, sliding gently down, feeling him fill her. He held her carefully by the hips, pulling her up, then down again onto him, guiding rather than forcing her. She had thrills of arousal running through her and, when he pushed his hand into contact with her clit, she moaned loudly, speeding up to try to build her orgasm. She pushed her body forwards onto him and was just getting into a rhythm that suited her when Hastur gasped out “not gonna last pet, you’re too good” and grabbed her hard down onto him as she felt him filling her.

As she stopped moving she felt the pain again, hot and sharp, and there was a certain sticky wetness prickling down her back too. She reached a hand round to touch. It really hurt and the skin felt wet and rough. Her fingers were now covered in blood. He was looking at her and she smiled weakly at him saying “thank you”. He groaned at her words, his head falling back and resting against the bedstead, eyes closed.

She dismounted and saw numerous spots of blood on the sheets, but trusted him enough not to worry about the bleeding. Hastur looked a little stunned, sitting without moving for over a minute and she started to get concerned. He recovered soon enough, grinning at her and saying “you need to see these marks, it’s a right mess and you put up with it all, my brave little pet”. He pulled her to her feet and guided her up to the mirror. She had to agree that her back was a state. There was quite a lot of blood and it has started running down her back and was dripping onto the carpet. Her back throbbed with pain and every movement made it hurt more. He made to touch her and she flinched backwards.

“Steady now, I’m just going to heal these and clean you up pet” he hovered his hand over her and she watched the skin knitting and the blood disappearing before her eyes. “Now, get back on the bed, going to make you cum too seeing as you’ve been so good for me”. She lay back and her eyes closed as she felt him lifting her legs and putting his mouth to her. His tongue swirled and he suckled gently, alternating between sucking and lapping her. It didn’t take long, she still felt hypersensitive and had been close before he’d cum. She felt her whole body push towards him, as if all her blood was rushing to the one area, and cried out softly as she came.

They cuddled on the bed and she started to feel sleepy, struggling to stay awake to get more time with him. Hastur started cooing at her softly, then singing, it was a strange tune and the words were not human. It made her eyelids feel heavy and she found she was falling asleep almost against her own will.

Hastur looked down fondly at his pet, lulled into sleep by a song he hadn’t thought of for thousands of years. When they, the fallen, had first awoken in Hell each had reacted differently. Some, like him, were angry and vengeful. Others despaired, wailing and crying at their fate. Some were all for begging forgiveness, pleading with God to return them to their former state of grace. Satan had begun to plan immediately - he would not attempt a reconciliation with Heaven, he would make Hell his own.

Some, recently exiled from the celestial choirs, had sung. The words they sang had formed a weirdly twisted version of half-remembered hymns, swirling melodies that spoke of loss and sorrow. Hastur remembered it now and softly crooned the ancient words. He wasn’t sure why he’d been reminded of the song, something about the warm affectionate feeling she’d given him had triggered it. He let his mind wander, thinking back to the time he’d first heard the tune. 

When he’d finally stopped screaming and crawled away from the lake, off to the deep, dark caves to hide, he’d found others there too. The worst injured and the most changed had instinctively found each other in the darkness. The demons tended their wounds and talked together. They made the darkest depths of Hell their own, eventually becoming the pit demons, usually despised, often feared. Never liked.

Hastur hadn’t let anyone touch him, growling and flexing claws at anyone who came near. The burns had festered and, like so many others, they didn’t think he’d make it. Then Ligur had arrived and held him. He’d struggled to get away, but Ligur wouldn’t let go. Eventually Hastur had given up and let himself be cleaned and wrapped in soft, cool bandages.

The former choirs had still been singing and Hastur had heard them from the caves where he lay, coddled and bandaged, accepting of Ligur’s help at last. Singing it now stirred up memories and emotions he’d almost forgotten. The Hellish lullaby soothed his blackened soul and he thought about the past without being consumed with anger for the first time.


	34. Pivotal Role

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story started with me wondering ‘where did Hastur & Ligur get the Antichrist baby from?’ and finally we’re getting there….. this chapter covers the major event that will change things from now on in….
> 
> **rape/non-con warning**

Hastur was panicking. He didn’t panic very often, but when a situation was beyond him he got in a panic. In fact, being honest, he actually panicked quite a lot, it’s just that he didn’t usually show it. The cause of his panic was a rumour going round Hell. He’d first heard it from Dagon, whom he considered a moderately unreliable source most of the time. He’d heard it from several other demons now too though so he thought it must be true. The rumour was he had been selected to play a pivotal role in Armageddon Planning.

He was all for Armageddon Planning, it was the whole point of his existence. However, he didn’t actually want to be involved in it. Certainly not playing a ‘pivotal’ role. In his head a ‘pivot’ was not a thing he wanted to be. He preferred being in the background and certainly not being vital to the success of anything. If you stayed out of other demons’ notice and didn’t become vital, or pivotal, the chances were that they couldn’t blame it on you when it went wrong. It was part of his reasoning for resigning from the Committee and going back to the pits in the first place, now it looked like he was going to be sucked back into the limelight.

He did what he usually did when he was panicked and hid in the small stationery hoarding room off his main office for a while, then went to talk to Ligur. He opened with “I dunt want to be a pivot”, which earned him a strange look. “What are you talking about?” Ligur asked mildly. Hastur assumed he knew exactly what he meant, but was just pretending not to, in order to make it difficult for him. This meant his answer: “y’know what I mean”, didn’t actually answer anything.

Ligur sighed, thousands of years exposure to Hastur’s way of thinking meant he didn’t get cross at this point, but started guessing what he meant instead. He thought 'pivot' sounded vaguely like engineering so asked “is it to do with the pipes?” Hastur looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head “course not, what have I got to do with the pipes, that's maintenance isn’t it, they’re not giving me that as well are they?” He sounded surprised and even more panicked. “So not the pipes, what about the trials, are they going ok?” The answer was another paranoid leap “why, what have you heard?” “Not them either then, y’gonna have to help me here, what are you meant to be pivoting?” Hastur finally admitted “Armageddon”, then looked shocked.

Ligur took a deep breath. He’d been told about Hastur’s ill-advised offer to Satan at the award ceremony and so wasn’t entirely surprised that he'd been sucked into this. Never offer to do anything you don’t have to, ever. It had been the first and most basic of rules since the foundation of Hell as an egalitarian state. Not that it was so egalitarian now really, but it was definitely a state and that was still the rule. He didn’t think pointing this out would be very helpful to Hastur’s state of mind. “What have you got to do?” he asked instead. 

Hastur didn’t know, so answered “be a pivot” and clammed up. After a few moments silence he said “Dagon told me, they’re going to do something official, dunno what, dunno when”. Against his better judgement Ligur decided optimism was the way forward “well you always said they should put more into it, mebbe you can pivot them into it”. Hastur glared at him “I ain’t a pivot” he wailed petulantly.

Ligur sighed, he wished that just for once Hell could organise things a bit better. Now Hastur was all worked up and wouldn’t get any work done, would probably set fire to things too if he didn’t do something about it. He got up and told Hastur to stay in the office and he’d go and see what he could find out.

Ligur bumbled round in his usual friendly way, chatting to demons he knew, just passing the time of day as it were. He’d ask a few questions, look interested and then just let them ramble on. Everyone liked a chance to stop working and complain, he just provided them with the opportunity. It was usually a while after he’d left before they realised they’d told him a whole lot of things, but he'd hardly told them anything. Ligur was like that.

As a result of his conversations his wanderings round Hell took him via a circuitous route to the office of Armageddon Planning. He timed it to arrive when he adjudged there would be a few demons outside smoking. Smoke breaks were heavily restricted and usually de-marked by the sounding of a kind of division-bell. He heard the bell and rolled up outside the offices shortly afterwards.

By the time he got there he knew quite a lot already and was able make a few intelligent remarks about the latest developments regarding battle strategy and weaponry prototypes. He gently led the conversation onto other recent developments, saying he’d heard they were busy and sympathising with increased workloads suggesting that he already knew what was behind it. He was rewarded with the information that plans had been stepped up over the last few months. After the failed coup they’d been given a plan, and a time-frame - it was called the “twelve year plan”.

He didn’t push for more information, feeling that might arouse suspicion, instead he nodded sagely and said wistfully “if only some of the other areas could spare some resources, but I guess getting new demons in would push you on training”. The demons wholeheartedly agreed with him on this and bemoaned the under-staffing issues and lack of new starters, saying if they didn’t get some help soon it would be too late to even start training them. They certainly didn’t seem to expect Hastur, or any of his office, to be joining them in anything approaching a ‘pivotal role’.

Ligur was puzzled. Clearly something was afoot with Armageddon Planning, and, as far as he could tell from his conversations elsewhere, it definitely involved Hastur in some way. Unfortunately no-one seemed to know how. If he wasn’t joining the Armageddon Planning office and wasn’t taking any work from them for this “twelve year plan” he didn’t know how he could be involved.

The clue came in conversation with Beelzebub’s secretary, an attractive demon with a large beard and sparkling silver eyes that matched her earrings. Ligur smiled at her, offering her a sticky sweet from a paper bag and maintaining eye contact as he took one and licked his fingers clean. She simpered at him and he had no problem in getting her talking. In fact he had a hard job getting away without hearing the entire story of her last relationship and why it had failed. It was bad enough when Hastur went off on one sometimes for hours or even days at a time. At least with Hastur he could just walk away, or punch him, this time he was trying to keep her talking. Eventually Ligur managed to gently steer the conversation back to Hastur. The secretary said Beelzebub had asked for a copy of the contract with Hastur’s pet, but didn’t seem to know much else. Interesting.

He got back to the office to find Hastur hiding with the stationery again, a hip-flask in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “No smoking in ‘ere” said Ligur, more out of habit than anything else as they both used the room to smoke in. Hastur growled, then took an especially long drag and blew smoke at Ligur.

“It’s got sommat to do with your pet human” Ligur spat out. “My P.A. y’mean” corrected Hastur, then looked horrified “what’s it gotta do with ‘er?” Ligur didn’t know, but thought him not having more work was the important thing so it didn’t really matter. “Just get yourself a new pet if you want one, let ‘em have her” Ligur said reasonably.

Hastur looked appalled, but couldn’t think of any reasonable argument against this suggestion. He certainly wasn’t going to admit that he was very attached to this particular pet and didn’t want to give her up. He said sulkily “dunt see why I’m the pivot then if it’s ‘er they’re after. Probably Dagon causing trouble, she was trying to get in Lenore’s knickers before the awards thing”. 

Ligur looked up at the use of the name, humans usually didn’t merit being called by an actual name, this was a new development. He knew Hastur was attached to ‘his pet’, or ‘P.A.’ now apparently, but he was starting to treat her almost like a demon. Ligur thought it might be a good thing if Armageddon Planning snatched her. He admitted she was useful, seemed devoted to Hastur and was fun to play with, but at the end of the day she was only a human. A human couldn't look after a demon properly. Looking after Hastur could be hard work, but it was his job and he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it, even if she had been helpful.

….……..

Lenore was in bed. Her and Charu had got on to writing up and reporting on the pits questioning process. Depending on the pit demon in charge there might be a more, or less, detailed account of the torments used to aid the demons’ memories when questioning them. Hastur had some lurid and unhelpful reports giving more details about pitch of screams and tolerances to the different implements than anything else. Only occasionally touching on the actual questions and answers.

She knew it was his job, and she knew he enjoyed it, but she wished he didn’t enjoy it in quite such graphic detail. She wanted to see him to try and improve his writing style - get him to cut out the bloody (literally bloody) details and get to the facts - might save him some time too. He also had a habit of making notes during the actual sessions, this meant lots of the pages had blood smeared on them making them hard to read. Maybe a dicta-phone would help, but the idea of having to listen to the screams and Hastur’s happy musings on which implements to try next put her off. It was one thing to read about it, where it was safely at one remove, but recordings might be too much. She had to keep reminding herself this wasn’t fiction, it was real. She felt sick and retired early with a headache.

Lenore was woken up by Hastur shaking her violently. As she opened her eyes he said in an urgent panic-stricken voice “I was only trying to help, s’not my fault, s’not fair”. She was groggy and confused, it didn’t make sense to her. It started to as she felt that familiar sense of dread and oppression filling the room, followed by a pervasive darkness lined with a dark red halo. She saw the figure of Satan coalescing in front of her as Hastur squealed and ran to the other side of the room half-hiding behind a chair.

She jumped out of bed, fighting against a thick miasma that sapped her strength and resolve. She was making for the blessed knife resting on the dressing table. As she crossed the room she heard a voice both inside and outside of her head giving a calm sinister command “pit demon hold your chattel”. Hastur leapt to her side gripping her firmly still telling her in an urgent panicked whisper “s'not fair, I was only trying to help, s’not my fault”. She struggled, but had no chance against the demon’s strength. She was pinned back down on the bed and saw the dark-shrouded figure approach.

From Hastur’s point of view this whole thing was a disaster. He’d spent years only caring about one thing - Armageddon - well, he admitted that maybe Ligur featured somewhere, but you didn’t ‘care’ about other demons, it wasn’t done. Then Lenore had come along and things had got a bit muddled. He knew he wasn’t capable of love, knew he would toss her aside, or throw her to the wolves/hell-hounds whatever, on Hell’s command…. In theory, but theory was all very well… He was now being asked to put it into practise. Not the bit about the hell-hounds, but the rest of it.

His precious Armageddon, his only chance for vengeance and to make things fair again, had collided straight into the only other thing he now admitted he kind of cared a bit about. Armageddon needed an Antichrist. The Antichrist needed to be born human and so Hell needed a female human of breeding age. Well, it just so happened Hastur had one. He’d offered to help and Hell had taken that literally. So now there would be an Antichrist - Satan the father and Lenore…well he cringed and wouldn’t think about it. Maybe it would all turn out to be a mistake and just go away if he didn’t think about it hard enough.

Satan approached and Lenore felt her pyjamas disappear as Hastur held her down. She was terrified, partly due to the oppressive, all consuming aura of despair emanating from the figure before her and partly because she had an idea what might be coming. She tried to think. Her mind was a muddled mess of torments and fear; Hastur standing over the bloodied body of the screaming demon, the pain of the welts, burns and scratches she'd endured. Earlier memories surfaced, things she’d not thought about for years. She didn’t even recognise all of the images as they flashed through her mind as intense emotional responses. The visions went further back, to a time when she’d been too young to fully understand, the replays seen through adult eyes was torture. The whirling images and intense feelings were fogging her up with dread and sapping all hope and happiness out of her, together with it the will to resist.

Through the fog she had an idea and suddenly relaxed her entire body, concentrating on finding one thing, a bright spot, a memory she could cling to. There was nothing in her terrible home life: restrictive and socially acceptable alcoholic parents, both disinterested in her and desperate to marry her off as soon as possible. A series of nannies and tutors, some more ‘hands-on’, some uncaring or even violent. Her earlier childhood was a mass of half-remembered scenes and, although some were happy, there was nothing she could cling to specifically. Nor was there anything in the farce of a marriage to Lord C so brutally exposed by the demonic contract. University had been superficially fun, but nothing outstanding, no single moment of real joy, no real connection to anyone. Relationships had been playful, not serious and she didn’t think she’d ever really loved or been loved.

It felt like Satan was winning, there was nothing good she could think of, no happiness to go back to. Even Hastur’s kind, calming words to her as he hurt her or told her how good she was were tainted. He wanted something, so of course he would say what she wanted to hear said the cynical, terrifying, depressing voice in her head. Had she really been so unhappy, so isolated, for so long and not even realised?

Suddenly the moment in the hallway after the brand had been applied when Hastur had looked at her so intensely and said she mattered to him came into her head. It was unnecessary for him to have done that, it felt different somehow. She also remembered how he’d told the pit demons she was important, always asked if she was ok, if she wanted to go ahead, how he’d protected her from Ligur’s ‘I could do it anyway’ and how he’d hesitated that day in the pits, unwilling to see her killed in front of him. 

So Hastur was her bright spot, the only good thing that had ever happened to her, the only thing she’d ever truly cared about. He was currently holding her down, still muttering about it not being fair. She didn’t expect him to do anything else. It wasn’t as if he had a choice. Satan’s very presence was enough to force obedience and Hastur was no traitor. She tried to ignore the present and focus instead on the memories of him, concentrating hard until the depressing morass lifted a little. The older, darker, memories slowly crept back into the furthest recesses of her mind.

With some space to think she accepted she couldn’t escape physically, but thought of something else. Concentrating to make the words form she said “this is against my contract you can’t do this”. She felt Hastur’s backwards jolt, heard him scream in fear, as laughter rang through her head threatening to smash her thoughts into dust. She hung on, saying “I read the terms and conditions, I’m protected”.

The words came from both inside and outside her head simultaneously “no, you belong to Hell. We can do as we wish with you”. She couldn’t manage to speak again but shook her head in the negative, denying the words. “Oh but you do, you belong to us, absolutely, for whatever purpose we choose”. She still shook her head not able to explain coherently but through gritted teeth forcing out the word “contract". The cruel, crowing laughter cut through her again “the contract says you chose to work for Hell freely, but now you’re branded as Hell’s property. The mark shows we own you, same as any other demon. Your terms can be changed now, the contract isn't relevant. Your duties can be altered to fit whatever Hell needs, you are ours entirely".

Lenore realised she couldn’t win this argument, even if she could have mustered the energy to continue. She lay back in Hastur’s arms working to isolate her brain from the rest of her body. She almost succeeded and, although she was aware of what was happening, it felt like it was happening to someone else. Then the pain came. It started low down in the pit of her stomach and she thought she knew the cause. Not wanting to think about it she looked at the ceiling, counting each of the glass drop-beads on the light shade above her, trying hard to concentrate on the task. The pain intensified, becoming generalised, her whole body wracked with it, making her scream and struggle and almost forget who she was.

The voice came again “pit demon stop her noise”, she felt Hastur move and realised he was going to put his hand over her mouth. He wasn't meant to gag her, ever. The contract might be useless to stop this, but it must bind him, she needed him, and this felt like an irrevocable breach. She could feel panic mounting and with a last vestige of her own mind she took control and stopped screaming forcing out the words “I can do it”.

She clamped her mouth shut, clenched her fists and screamed internally instead, tears rolling down her face. Hastur didn't stop her speaking, but still held on, letting out a steady stream of whispered words, which after a while became meaningless to her: “it’s not my fault, I was only trying to help, it’s not fair, it's not my fault...”

After this last effort she managed to let her mind drift. Lenore felt like she’d won something. She hadn't allowed Hastur to break the contract, she hadn’t allowed Satan to destroy the one relationship she’d ever believed in. She closed her eyes now, concentrating on the image of Hastur’s face in the hallway until she almost managed to shut everything else out. Eventually the oppressive weight bearing down on her consciousness lifted slightly and the pain stopped abruptly. She guessed the physical damage had been healed.

As she slowly came back to reality she realised Hastur had started making high pitched screaming noises at some point. He slowed to a halt, quietening at last. Then that voice came again, cutting through her like a saw. “She’s strong, you chose well - although it seems more likely she did the choosing, pit demon - it won’t make it easy for you. She will have absorbed some of my power with the Antichrist's insemination. You need to guard her until she has given birth. As she’s strong she will probably discorporate you many times”. Again the awful laughter sounded from all sides, but thankfully it departed and the room felt impossibly light and airy with it’s absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are - we now have a pregnancy and an embryo Antichrist. The child started as half-demon but was quite clearly 100% human at the time it was born (coming into his powers at the age of eleven). I felt that all the demonic energy at his creation had to go somewhere and figured it would be absorbed by the mother - hence Lenore will have a few demon tricks up her sleeve. Although she doesn’t suddenly become a demon as that would rather spoil things.
> 
> Obviously this is going to change the relationship a little.....


	35. Whose Fault is it Anyway?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pick up exactly where the last chapter left off - with the reactions from Hastur and Lenore. This is a quieter chapter after the big reality check regarding the dangers of making deals with Hell.

Hastur had started shouting again “I was only trying to help, it's not fair, it's not my fault, I didn’t mean for this to happen, it’s not my fault, now you’re going to discorporate me". He wailed the last bit. Lenore was seemingly tougher than the demon. Maybe it was her sense of having achieved a victory, however small, against Satan himself. Maybe it was her love for him, it was, after all, thoughts of Hastur that had pulled her back from the brink of despair. She said in a calm quiet voice “you can let me go now, you’re hurting my wrists”.

He dropped her as if she was burning him, flying across the room, back behind the chair. He looked at her suspiciously, she was too calm for his liking. If he'd been betrayed and abused like that he'd be livid with rage. He took a deep breath, deciding a Duke of Hell should not be a coward in front of anyone even if they were going to discorporate him. He took a step out from behind the chair thinking he might as well get the worst over.

Lenore felt like she was still detached from reality. Her mind had simply decided to shut out what had just happened. Her memory was already hazy over details, she remembered the glass drop-beads, the number of them, how they glinted in the red light. There had been a couple missing. Probably need to get a new light shade, she thought irrelevantly.

Pulling herself back from this line of thought she decided what was important now was reassuring Hastur, her demon, the only good thing that had ever happened to her. He looked like he thought she would hurt him, she laughed at the absurdity of that. “You look terrified, I’m not going to hurt you” she said all smiles.

He was even more suspicious. “What about vengeance” he muttered, “I’d want vengeance, it’s only fair” he braced himself clenching his fists and looking defiantly towards her. She asked “vengeance, why?” He was at a loss, too surprised to be frightened any more, he said “well, this is cuz of me, he’d have never known who you were if it wasn’t for me, if it wasn’t for my brand, if I hadn't helped stop the coup and offered to help with Armageddon. It’s all my fault”. He suddenly realised what he’d said and followed up with “I was only trying to help, it’s not fair” - at least he could rescue the other excuses even if he’d just admitted it was his fault.

Lenore considered. She could try and reach her knife, attack him, probably cause him some damage before he subdued her, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Besides, even if she did manage to discorporate him then what? Hell weren’t going to let her escape, remove the Antichrist and go back to normal.

She thought about the word ‘normal’. It didn’t really seem appropriate. Her idea of ‘normal’ would be to go downstairs, make enough breakfast for however many demons were currently in the library and sit and eat with them. Afterwards she’d get back to writing up the results of Hell’s interrogations. Decidedly not what most people would call normal.

Lenore was surprised how clearly she was thinking. It was weird, unsettling, but if she could keep going then things could only get better. She also remembered Beelzebub's words at the verbal confirmation, if she upset Hastur Hell would make her suffer, well suffer even more. She had no intention of finding out what more they could do to her. If she fought against this how much worse would it be?

Hastur had just said this was all his fault. She reviewed events and didn’t really think that was true. What it came down to didn’t make her feel very good though. After she’d helped a couple of demons track-down her husband so they could kill him, she’d summoned one of the murderers, got him drunk, shagged him, then asked to come and work for him. She’d signed a contract with Hell and hadn’t even considered they might not play fair. There was the issue of the brand of course, that seemed to have changed things, but hadn’t Ligur said something about that and she’d just ignored it? Certainly he hadn’t helped things, being so keen on the brand and offering his help to Satan, but she didn’t think it was ‘all’ his fault.

She started slowly “I guess it is your fault demon”. Hastur cringed waiting for the blow, but she carried on “it’s also my fault. If I hadn’t made the deal, summoned you, signed a contract, let you brand me and helped stop the coup, it never would have happened either”. He hadn't considered this. “So it’s all your fault” he said cautiously. “I’d say all both our faults. Although you knew what Hell was like, knew what the brand meant, you should have warned me. Not just make me so happy I behave like an idiot”. He let the words sink in “so it’s my fault for making you happy?” he was puzzled. She gave up, all she wanted was him back, whose fault it was didn't matter. “Oh, just come over here...please".

Privately she did think it was a bit more his fault than hers. Ligur had tried to warn her about the brand, but Hastur hadn't. Working for Hell and signing the contract was all her idea though. Besides, she was in love with him and there was one thing she really was sure of: she needed him. There was no-one else she could turn to. No-one else who even slightly cared about her. Satan had shown her that much. Hastur might be an evil demon incapable of love, but it felt like he was the best thing she was ever going to get. She wasn't about to allow Satan to spoil that.

Hastur still didn’t understand what had happened, but he fulfilled her request with not a small amount of trepidation. He still considered himself at imminent risk of being discorporated. How she could do that he hadn't considered, Satan had said she would and that was enough. She was still his pet though and, for some reason, that 'please' made him want to go to her regardless of the danger.

She guided him so he was sitting back on the bed, his head propped on the pillows, and leaned in to kiss him. It took a couple of seconds before he responded, but it was making him feel better. She pulled back regarding him fondly. “You're staying now then?” She asked. He was confused “what d’ya mean?” She replied calmly “you heard your boss, you’ve got to guard me until it’s born".

The panic set in again “I can’t, I got stuff to do, back in Hell, can’t be guarding people, and you’ll discorporate me sooner or later, He said that too”. She sighed tetchily “I'm not going to discorporate you” pausing, then adding “unless you keep saying I am, in which case maybe I will”. He looked frightened again. She tried again “Look, will you get this blessed silly idea out of your head, I’m not going to discorporate you”. Adding “He never said where you were to guard me, we can go to Hell any time you want, it isn’t likely any demon will touch me now I’m growing the bloody Antichrist for them is it?”

Hastur suddenly remembered what this was all about. “You’re making Armageddon!” he exclaimed. No, that didn’t sound right. He tried again “you’re going to end the world for me, make it fair”. Again it sounded weird. “You’re the Antichrist’s mum” - yes that was it.

Lenore scowled “not by choice, I’d be straight off to the Family Planning clinic and get rid of it if I had my way, which is why you’re guarding me I suppose”. He didn’t understand the clinic reference, but got the implication that she would harm the child. He was horrified, “it’s an innocent baby, you can’t hurt it”. She corrected him “it’s demon stock and no demon is innocent remember? There’s a whole fiery lake down in Hell I could drown it in”.

Hastur grabbed her as if she was about to make good on the threat. “You can’t, it’s my vengeance, the great plan, end of the world, kicking the bastards outta heaven, making it fair, you can’t drown it, it is written”. She looked cross, snapping at him “that’s assuming you win this war, besides what happens to me eh? No earth no humans, I’m kaput”. He thought about it “but you’re the Antichrist’s mum” he said wonderingly. She said “still human, still going to die”, he hit upon a clever idea “you’re my P.A. though, under contract, can’t die while working for Hell it isn’t allowed, shirking off by dying, can’t let that happen - He said it too, said you’re Hell’s property. Hell don’t give things away”.

Her reply was testament to her recent experiences “Hell does whatever it likes and makes up a rule to fit it afterwards. The contract was ‘written’ and it protected me about as much as a chocolate fire-guard”. He thought this one through, saying slowly “it’d melt”, “exactly” she said triumphantly.

They both sat thoughtfully for a few minutes, before Lenore said “I’m going to have nightmares again, and not good ones. I’m ok at the moment, but I don’t think it’ll last, soon as my brain catches up there’s going to be trouble”. Hastur shifted uneasily. She said warningly “if you mention being discorporated I swear I will do it”. He grinned sheepishly. It hit her suddenly “I’m bloody pregnant aren’t I? A demon parasite growing inside me. Shit”. He looked at her and reached out a hand, stroking her stomach area. “Can feel it” he confirmed “it’s not demon though, feels human. There’s something else though, something changed”. He looked at her, puzzled.

She was starting to panic “you can feel it!?” she almost shouted her breathing getting faster as the reality set in. Pregnant. She was then hit with a wave of anger, not really directed at Hastur, or any of the earnest hard-working demons she'd met, not even against Satan. It was against the ‘great plan’, against what was ‘written’, against the unfairness that had kicked all this off in the first place. This was God’s fault. She could feel the rage building up inside of her getting hotter and hotter looking for a release.

Hastur’s shriek got her attention. He was pointing at her with a shaking hand: “you’re on fire” he managed. Lenore was interested to see that he was right. She could feel the heat outside of her, it didn’t seem to be burning her but the small orange flames were doing a good job of charring the bedclothes. She stood up, which didn’t help matters as she sent a shower of sparks onto the carpet.

Hastur was used to fire, it was something he understood. Stamping on the glowing embers he picked her up bodily, wincing against the burning heat, and carried her into the bathroom. He waved a hand, filling the bath with water, and dunked her in it, pushing her head under the water until the flames died and she started struggling.

He let her up and she coughed up water, spluttering out “you trying to drown me or what?” Quite reasonably he pointed out she’d have burned the house down if he hadn’t done something and she quietened down, thoughtful again. “He said I’d absorbed some of His powers, demonic powers, hell-fire” she said slowly. Then she started crying, it was as if everything had suddenly got too much for her and the whole edifice collapsed all at once. She was howling.

Hastur had no idea what to do. He wasn’t good with human emotions and had only ever seen Lenore cry with physical pain, which he greatly enjoyed. This time the pain was mental and the crying decidedly not sexy. He took a gamble and tried the same techniques he used for soothing physical pain. He got in the bath with her and pulled her to him resting her head on his chest, stroking her and saying “s’ok pet, I got you, you’re ok”. It almost worked, she started giggling, but then wailed again “I’m not ok, I got a parasite in me, it's going to kill me and I don’t want it”.

He was at a bit of a loss again, pregnancy was not something he’d ever paid much attention to, he knew the basic premise, but not much more than that. He was alarmed at her description of the Antichrist as a ‘parasite’, he knew that must be wrong, but in his limited experience it felt exactly like that. The child was a separate entity, it came from demon stock, it was living inside her and feeding off her, that made it a parasite didn’t it? He wasn’t sure, maybe he could ask Ligur. For now he decided to concentrate on shushing and cooing at Lenore while stroking her hair. It felt like the right thing to do. This thought paralysed him mid-stroke - should he be doing it if it was the ‘right thing’? He suddenly didn’t know.

Lenore had, in the interim, calmed down a little. Saying in a steady but quiet voice “going to be a lot of that sweetheart, pregnancy messes up your emotions big time and being raped by Satan, absorbing demonic powers and being forced to birth a child whose coming will herald the end of the world is bound to make it worse”. The words seemed to have taken a lot of effort and she snuggled closer to him yawning widely. He resumed stroking her, it had worked so he saw no reason to stop doing it. After a while she seemed to have fallen asleep.

He considered what she’d said, taking it point by point. The first one, about pregnancy and emotions, was a purely human area and he respected her expertise. He considered her description of it as ‘rape’ and, again, this seemed accurate - she certainly hadn’t consented to the insemination. He tried to think how he would feel if someone had forced a parasite into him and made him grow it inside himself. He had to admit it sounded horribly evil, the sort of thing Hell would do in torments.

Her point about the demonic powers was a no brainer, she’d caught fire - so she definitely had them, but was that a bad thing? Setting fire to your surroundings because you’re annoyed was ok if you were in Hell’s damp halls, but up here it was definitely dangerous, so another one to her.

The last point he was conflicted over, he wanted the world to end, but he could see why she wouldn’t, even if he got her a place in the new Hell. Perhaps they could build a new earth to go with it. ‘A new Hell and a new earth’ had a certain ring to it, but he didn’t see Hell being interested. So the last point was good for him and bad for her.

He had to admit that there was a lot for one little human to deal with. He thought he understood why she was upset. Human brains weren’t meant to cope with this sort of thing. They were delicate, not like demons. As for saying some of it was her fault…well, humans were weird, you’d never catch a demon admitting anything was their fault, even when it was.

He still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just blasted him to ashes a few times, or maybe demanded to use some of the nastier torments on him - extract her vengeance. That’s what he would have done. Vengeance would have finished the matter with no need for any of this crying and suchlike. Humans seemed to do things differently though and he didn’t understand humans. 

He wanted her to be happy again, he liked it when she was happy. If she wasn’t going to invoke her right of vengeance he wasn’t sure how to make it alright again though. Maybe she’d just get better on her own. She seemed ok now, well she was asleep now, but that was ok wasn’t it?

Hastur held his pet, thinking fondly about the little Armageddon she was growing for him. She might not want vengeance but he did. Vengeance on Heaven. She was going to make that happen for him. She really was a good pet. All this thinking had tired him out so he too fell asleep still sat in the bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lenore is pretty tough, all things considered, and has decided not to blame Hastur (even though arguably she would be within her rights to) so they do still have a relationship to explore. Also a pregnancy to deal with, but it will take a while before it settles down.
> 
> Btw The excuses “it’s not my fault”, “it’s not fair” and “I was only trying to help” are my personal pet hates. I’m also borrowing from my own reaction to trauma in this and the next few chapters, which will lead to what may seem like the longest day ever…..


	36. The Antichrist’s Mum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going quite well from Hastur’s point of view, but how will Lenore manage once she wakes up? He hasn’t been discorporated yet at least….
> 
> A trip down to Hell to see Beelzebub and a walk around the pits - time to keep busy and not think too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of a long day spread over several chapters with several different trips out and about

In the early dawn Ligur appeared in the library. Charu told him the human was asleep in her bedroom. He didn’t seem to know anything about any other visitors. Ligur found the bedroom then followed the trail of sooty burn marks and smell of hell-fire into the bathroom. Peering round the door, wary of what he might find, he saw them curled together in a bath filled with murky looking water, her naked and Hastur fully dressed, including coat and boots.

Ligur was confused. Demons didn’t usually bathe, especially not Hastur. He knew he liked wading around in ponds from time to time, but why would he decide to take a bath with the human with all his clothes on? It was odd. His mission had been to find out why Hastur hadn’t been discorporated. Beelzebub had a whole briefing they needed to give him and when he didn’t turn up they’d sent Ligur up to look for him.

He prodded Hastur carefully, jumping back out of harm’s way before he had a chance to try and kill him. On this occasion Hastur didn’t leap into action. He did, however, growl dangerously and clutch Lenore to him, in turn waking her up. They both blinked at him three times. Disconcertingly they did it in sync. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say so went for stating the obvious “you’ve not been discorporated”. 

Lenore shifted against Hastur who clutched her even tighter “wasn’t me what said it” he told her. She could feel the anger building again and the heat tingling through her, as the first of the flames leapt out. Hastur ducked her under the water again.

“Gotta stop doing that pet” he said when he let her up. “Dunno how” she said simply. Ligur was impressed “what else can she do” he asked Hastur who shrugged. “Oi” said Lenore snapping her figures at Ligur “I’m right here, look at me” there was something weird at the edge of her voice and Ligur turned his head to look at her involuntarily and said “that’s another one then”.

She looked confused but Hastur said “you just made him look at you even though he dint want to, it’s quite a powerful demon thing, wonder what else you can do”. He looked pleased “you’re going to be really useful once I’ve trained you up pet, get all the other demons doing what I say”. “What I say surely?” she corrected and he looked surprised “but I’ll tell you what to say before you says it, you’re mine aren’t you?” She wasn’t sure how this worked any more. She was in a kind of middle ground between being human and demonic and it all felt very new.

Ligur cut across what could obviously turn into a long conversation “anyway, you gotta go talk to Beelzebub now, they got an urgent briefing for you. Down at the main floor, don’t go near the Hall” he warned.

Hastur got out of the bath, Lenore followed him, but he tried to push her back in. “You’re guarding me remember, you can’t just leave me here”. He looked concerned “but what if you set fire to things?” he asked. “You’d just better stop me getting angry hadn’t you?” Ligur looked at Hastur who shrugged and said in a proud voice “I'm looking after her. She’s the Antichrist’s mum, carrying a little Armageddon round in her”. Lenore and Ligur both rolled their eyes at this.

Of course Ligur now knew what this whole ‘pivotal role’ thing was about. He’d been as surprised as Beelzebub that she hadn’t discorporated Hastur as soon as it happened. He knew she had been devoted to him, but also knew that Satan had deliberately taken Hastur along for the ‘insemination’ for his own amusement. He’d have expected her right of vengeance would cut through any feelings for Hastur. He was very concerned about the blessed blade too, maybe he’d better try and get that away from her.

That Hastur was still here was unexpected, but a good sign. If she was still devoted to him, even after he’d dropped her into this, then Ligur was pleased, surprised, but pleased. He hadn’t looked forward to having Hastur discorporated on a regular basis. Unpleasant thing discorporation.

The demonic powers thing was good too. Hastur was right, if he could train her and keep her obedient she would be very useful. If Hell could make her more like a demon then her weird relationship with Hastur would be more acceptable as well.

She didn’t feel quite as human already. Demanding he look at her was an attempt at dominance - which was something he’d expect from a demon. He wasn’t going to tell her it was easy enough for him to hex against it, it might work on less powerful demons though. Setting fire to things was very demonic as well, as was her apparent shrugging off of what Satan had just inflicted on her. Demons weren’t meant to appear weak, they were expected to deal with it: get angry and get even, not make a fuss like humans did. It also looked like Hastur was going to get his Armageddon. He couldn't see any downsides.

She had to dry and dress before they went anywhere, which took a few minutes. Hastur hopped impatiently from foot to foot steaming dry from internal heat. He had changed his mind about being a pivot. It seemed like all he'd have to do was look after his pet. As he was planning on doing this anyway it didn't seem too bad. He couldn't see any changes yet, but supposed he soon would and wondered how long it was going to take before Armageddon. Hopefully not long.

He realised he was very proud of her for doing this for him. She was a good pet and so pretty too. Also, as it was his pet that was growing Armageddon for all of Hell, he expected Beelzebub to be grateful to him. He wondered what rewards he would get after the war. He hoped for lots of posh booze, a big dry office and a room for him and Ligur with comfy chairs and a window. He belatedly added a nice room with a big bed and a bath for his pet to his mental list. Maybe he could have some torments equipment too...

They headed downstairs, going to the library and finding Charu still working. So much had happened Lenore had forgotten the horned demon was here. He looked at them cocking his head to one side asking “what’s changed?” Hastur jumped in proudly indicating Lenore “she’s the Antichrist’s mum now”. Lenore tutted at him “will you stop saying that?” Charu asked in hushed tones “Is it true?” and Lenore answered: “wish it wasn't" as they disappeared through the library floor.

Appearing in one of Hell’s interminably long, ill-lit corridors they headed off to find Beelzebub. She was getting used to how the demons in the upper halls kept their distance when she and Hastur walked through. This time they almost fled at the sight of them. She gloried in the notoriety, not sure whether anyone knew about the whole Antichrist thing or if it was just her habit of stabbing demons with a blessed blade if they annoyed her. Then again, maybe it was just the fact she was accompanied by Dukes Hastur and Ligur that was unnerving them.

She recognised the waiting room from the last time, which seemed like a life-time ago but was really only a few months. Hastur knocked on Beelzebub’s door. “Go away we’re busy” came the immediate the reply and he very nearly turned and walked out. Lenore was the one who opened the door and motioned for Hastur to enter ahead of her as Ligur followed behind.

Beelzebub was sat at their desk with two other demons, Dagon and one Lenore hadn’t seen before. On seeing Lenore and Hastur together they raised an eyebrow. It seemed to make them uneasy that Hastur had clearly not been discorporated and Lenore had a faint smile on her face. 

Hastur said proudly “she’s the Antichrist’s mum, an’ don’t make her angry cuz she keeps catching fire” causing the small demon to shake their head in shock. Recovering they said to Lenore “I suppose you want to dissolve your contract?” Her answer seemed to surprise them even more “oh no, why would I want to do that?” She said, all sweetness and light. Beelzebub recovered quickly “good because you can’t dissolve it, doesn’t matter if he broke it, you’re Hells property. We own you”.

Lenore said breezily “I had a chat with Satan about that, it seems things are a little different to what I first envisaged, but I think it’s all cleared up now”. The demons, apart from Hastur, looked at her in horror “a chat?” said Ligur. “Yup” confirmed Lenore “I wouldn’t call it ‘cosy’ but I think we understood each other” she said, grinning widely.

She was really starting to enjoy their obvious discomfort. Managing to unnerve, not to say shock, a room full of demons gave her a delicious feeling of power. If only she could keep this up. She felt hollow inside, like her entire world had just collapsed leaving just a void. If she could just hide that then everything would be ok, wouldn’t it?

Lenore knew that at this point it was imperative that she carried on doing things, as soon as she relaxed or stopped moving it would all come apart. Keep busy; don’t think. It had been her motto for a long while and usually worked. Well, it worked up until things finally caught up with her and the crash came. The crashes could be catastrophic, but best not to think about that. She’d managed to avoid anything like that for years now, so maybe it would all be alright.

Hastur just stood looking adoringly at her, a huge soppy grin on his face. He confirmed “she did n’ all, told Him what's what, got quite stroppy”. As he recalled this detail he had a moment of doubt. If she had stood up to his boss couldn't he have done the same? Maybe, if he'd talked to Lenore first she would have agreed to the insemination. That would have been better: no screaming or crying.

He dismissed this line of thinking. Satan wouldn’t have allowed him time to go and talk to her even if he had asked. Besides Satan liked hurting people so He would never have agreed to a plan to spare her pain, even if she was on Hell’s side. There was nothing he could have done. She seemed ok now, so maybe it would all be alright.

“Why does Hastur still have his corporation?” Beelzebub gave in, asking the question that everyone in the room wanted to know the answer to. Lenore answered cryptically “why do you think?” as Hastur continued grinning at her. She was holding his hand by now too, and smiled back at him happily.

Beelzebub sighed, they simply couldn’t be bothered with this anymore. The human was confusing them and it wasn’t a nice feeling. She seemed fine after what had happened, hadn’t taken her right of vengeance and seemed happy to carry on working for Hell. It was unexpected, but overall it was a good thing, so why worry? The human had always been weird anyway, no point speculating about why. Handing a file to Hastur and instructing he study it the little party were ushered out of the office.

Lenore was triumphant. It felt like another victory against Hell. She was floating high now, the trauma hidden deep in the back of her mind, a buzzing rush flowing through her instead. She was going to win. Exactly what she was going to win and who she was playing against she didn't know, but she knew she was winning. She kept hold of Hastur’s hand, he was her demon and she wanted Hell to know it.

Hastur insisted on a trip to the pits where he introduced her to everyone as ‘the Antichrist's mum’ and told the confused demons she had a tiny Armageddon growing inside her. Lenore was starting to get fed up with it and told him to stop before she lost her temper and burned the entire pits down. “Wanna have a look at the torments rooms?” He asked hopefully. She didn’t. He then made a sensible suggestion “they’re fire proof, could try teaching you how to control hell-fire”. That was a very good reason to go down to the torments rooms so she reluctantly agreed.

The warm dark corridors down in the pits were starting to feel quite cosy to her by now anyway. She preferred them to the upper halls, where demons ducked out of their way and stared from a distance. The pit demons were friendly, not to say jovial. They were also professional torturers she reminded herself, but very amiable with it.

They saw Brontes in the hall and Hastur did his customary introduction but quietly this time, keeping half an eye on Lenore to see if she would burst into flames. There was a bit of a glow of hell-fire about her, made more noticeable by the low light down here - a new meaning to a ‘pregnancy glow’.

Hastur hastened to explain about demonic powers rubbing off on her. Brontes ushered them to an empty room, his one eye watching Lenore warily. Once inside, Hastur took his coat off, followed by his waistcoat and shirt. He tied a dark coloured apron around this waist and suggested Lenore did the same. She politely declined suspecting Hastur just wanted to see her topless. “Be me getting set on fire anyway” he said gloomily.

It wasn’t the greatest start as Lenore found his half-stripped body highly attractive and his frustrated attempts to annoy her really funny. “Gotta be angry pet” he shouted at her, shaking her by the shoulders. She tried to kiss him. “For Satan’s sake” he cried in exasperation. Followed by “Yeah, that’s done it” as Lenore exploded in flames that leapt several feet from her body and whooshed over Hastur singeing his wig and apron. From outside in the corridor Brontes gave an impressed whistle.

Hastur shouted instructions from what he hoped was a safe distance. She managed to bring the blaze relatively under control, but still had a tendency to flare up whenever he said ‘the great plan’, ‘Satan’ or ‘it is written’. At last she got the hang of making hell-fire as a small concentrated ball around one of her hands only. She experimented, flicking out her hand only to see a flame-thrower like jet spurt from her hand and char the whole of the opposite wall. That looked like a useful skill she thought. Hastur was suitably impressed.

With the fire under control she felt elated. She found Hastur’s half stripped body very attractive and longed to touch him. Not sure how her brain was coping, but deciding to run with it, she suggested “maybe, seeing as we’ve got a room officially this time, you should close that viewing window so we can have some time together?” He was horrified “but you’ve got the little Antichrist inside you, it’ll damage it”.

Lenore laughed loudly and he looked quite put out. She said “it’s a demonic baby, don’t think it’ll damage easily, besides, even with a normal pregnancy there isn’t any danger, so long as you don’t get carried away. Probably best not use any of the nastier torments” she advised. He was still reluctant to hurt her, or even touch her.

She gave up for now. Although she fully intended to pick this up again later. It seemed really important that they re-start sexual relations as soon as possible, as if any hesitation now might make it impossible to do in the future. She wasn’t sure why, but her brain was clear on the point. As it was about the only thing it was clear on she decided to listen to it. She said “you’ll change your mind soon enough, gonna be bloody difficult otherwise” with a knowing look.

He didn’t understand and she explained that nine months of no sex with hormones racing through her just didn’t seem likely. Hastur was horrified “nine months? How do you know it's going to take that long?”, “nine months is normal, sometimes longer” she grinned evilly. She assured him again that he wouldn’t ‘dislodge’ the Antichrist or damage it in any way, but he was still nervous so she decided to drop it for now.

They headed back up to find a signal so they could go home. Hastur still jittery and holding onto her arm gingerly. He asked her again “are you sure it’s as long as nine months?” When she nodded he asked “then how long before the world ends?” She hadn’t got a clue and suggested he asked Armageddon Planning, but unless the world was going to end with one giant stinky nappy it would be years. Hastur didn’t look impressed “thought it’d all be over in a few weeks” was his only comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this is familiar territory for me - keep going to stop the crash. For anyone who doesn’t get it: think of it like spinning a whole load of plates, or juggling multiple balls - it’s fine as long as you can keep them all moving, but as soon as you try and stop they all come crashing down at once. Maybe Lenore will be fine though….
> 
> ….I see Hastur as largely unaffected by any of this mentally speaking - he’s used to how Hell treat people/demons and has the positive of Armageddon to look forward to, so to him it’s all looking pretty good so far (even if it is going to take longer than he thought!


	37. The Nightmare Hound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presents all round in this chapter - and a bit of a revelation for Hastur. Lenore is certainly keeping busy! A little light humour and something nice after what Hell have put her through. Maybe even a bit of fluff?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realised that so far the scenes have almost all been either in Hell or at Lenore’s house and wanted to give them a bit of an outing. We will see a bit more of London from now on.
> 
> NB I have real places in mind for any shops/pubs/restaurants I mention throughout - although in some cases I have amalgamated more than one venue into one to suit my purposes.

Lenore still felt that if she stopped things would come crashing down pretty quickly. If only she could keep busy, keep doing things to distract herself, maybe reality wouldn't catch up. She really didn’t want to do any work though and she was hungry. After saying ‘hello’ to Charu in the library, she led the way down to the kitchen. Lenore told Hastur that, as she had ‘Armageddon’ growing in her, he’d better cook lunch and gave him instructions on heating soup.

Hastur wasn't good at following instructions and often did the exact opposite just to be contrary. He quickly gave up on the can opener and miracled the cans open, sloshing the contents into bowls and over the work surface. It then became apparent that he was never going to master the microwave either. His claws were starting to grow out in frustration as he ignored Lenore’s patient instructions and jabbed at the buttons, twisting the dial back and forth and managed to reset the clock but failed to start it.

Lenore huffed in an irritated way and took over. They ate in silence. She eyed him speculatively and suggested going out. He was horrified “you might get injured or lose the Antichrist”. Lenore sighed, this was going to be a long nine months.

Having persuaded Hastur that being pregnant didn’t prevent you from leaving the house they set off for Oxford Street. They hit a snag as he’d never used public transport and was confused about how the whole oyster card system worked. In the end she decided it was simpler for him to just use miracles to open the tube barriers.

He waved his hand to touch-in just as if he had a card and she wondered why he couldn’t simply have used the actual card. She decided not wanting to follow the rules or pay for your journey was probably just a demon thing and she’d have to get used to it.

The tube fascinated him, he speculated on whether they could build similar in Hell. It would mean less walking around, but he had to admit that more tunnels would probably not be a good idea with the damp. She had to stop him getting down onto the track and wandering off into the tunnels. He also thought it was funny to stand on the left on the escalators and annoy people by overtaking them then walking really slowly. For some reason anyone who glared at him, or turned angrily, suddenly decided they'd rather be somewhere else as quickly as possible.

They emerged onto the busy shopping street. “First things first, I’m getting you new underwear, you’re not wearing those grubby old things any more” she declared. Hastur refused to even consider it “just got 'em comfortable” he said. She concentrated and told him “follow me” and he took a few forced steps forward before regaining control.

“Not fair” he cried, “you ain’t gonna do that again, I got hexes” and made a sign in the air that gave off a faint afterglow. Lenore sighed, “alright, just testing it out, but you do want to keep me happy don’t you? New underpants will make me happy”. She smiled winningly and Hastur gave in still grumbling.

Having obtained his reluctant agreement she took his hand and pulled him into the big Marks & Spenser, heading up the escalators to menswear. Standard white cotton briefs came in a pack of 5. Hastur, much to Lenore’s dismay, said that would last him decades.

Next she went to lingerie, at which Hastur gazed open mouthed. She had to stop him grabbing everything, and was concerned at the looks they were getting from the other shoppers as he held pairs of lacy knickers up to her, squinting to image her wearing them. They left with just the underpants a short while later.

His reaction to lingerie had given an idea and she took them off a side street and down to Soho. Lenore still felt an urgent necessity to prove she was ok with him and with sex in general. If she waited now it felt like the memory of what had happened might taint any future encounters forever. She had to get this out of her system, purge the negative feelings as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure it would work, but she was compelled to find a way to test her theory.

Although there had been a fair amount of redevelopment in Soho, closing down some of the seedier ‘XXX Nude Show’ type establishments, there were still some pretty risqué bits. She found the shop she was looking for - an ‘adult store’ and told Hastur “gonna show you stuff safe for use on humans, don’t think the demonic torments is a good idea while I'm pregnant”.

They went in and Hastur headed straight for the lingerie section, fixing on see-through wispy little negligees and lacy body stockings. She said he could chose something, but only one item fearing they’d end up with half the shop if she let him loose.

He settled on a short, black chemise in see-though material with lacy details, but was also fascinated by a complicated looking suspender-belt which came with attached cuffs. She pointed that out and he grinned saying “yeah, I noticed that too”. Good, she was getting his mind off damaging the Antichrist and onto her being tied up in underwear. That was what she had wanted. Time to ramp it up a bit.

She led him downstairs to the fetish areas in the basement. They always seemed to put that sort of thing in the basement, reminiscent of dungeons possibly. His eyes widened as he looked at the displays and she thought of kids in sweet shops. 

They wandered round looking at various things. He wasn’t impressed with the few whips on display, saying “wouldn’t do much damage with them”, which she tried to explain was the point. He liked the look of paddles and riding crops though, testing the flex in the handle of one. She had to jump out the way as he aimed a swipe at her with a studded paddle. So, definitely a crop and a paddle then, she was starting to get aroused at the thought of it.

She steered him towards bondage stuff and he was again unimpressed “we got all that kinda stuff in the pits and a lot more sturdy too” so just the chemise, crop and paddle then. He then caught sight of the array of vibrating toys and she had to explain the concept and that people liked the sensation. He was curious so she picked one out and said she would demonstrate it later.

Hastur suddenly said “so torments is something lots of people do then?” She replied “well I did try to tell you before - although actual Hellish level torments are more unusual”.

His eyes were like saucers as he looked round the shop and he would probably have liked to spend a lot longer there. To be honest his shabby raincoat made him look like the stereotypical ‘dirty old man’ so he seemed right at home in a sex-shop. She grabbed his hand again, before he managed to find his way to the stranger ‘medical supplies’ area, and took him up to the tills, remembering to get batteries before they paid and left.

“Lets find a pub before we go back” she suggested and they wandered around for a bit. She was genuinely happy walking around Soho with Hastur carrying a large ostentatiously ‘plain’ bag. She hoped passers by could all guess what was going on and speculate on what was in the bag. A cloud of happiness enveloped her and she felt like she was floating high above all the unpleasantness of Hell and Satan. She had her demon and that was all that mattered.

Hastur suddenly got all jittery as they passed a bookshop and ducked down an alleyway muttering about seeing someone he knew. She was puzzled but too jubilant to pay much attention.

They headed up towards the Charing Cross Road and found an old fashioned looking corner pub on one of the side streets. It had patterned frosted glass windows, pretty mosaic tiles on the pavement outside and looked inviting.

At the bar she suddenly remembered she was pregnant and so shouldn’t be drinking alcohol. Damn it, she thought, changing her gin and tonic order to a tomato juice. Hastur wanted a pint of beer, ‘nuffin fancy’, and a chaser of something stronger. She got him London Pride bitter and double rum, which he seemed happy with. Afterwards they walked up to the station at Tottenham Court Road and got the tube back. Hastur clutched the bag to him with a big smile. This was much better she thought.

Hastur was happy too. In common with Lenore he had a wonderful capacity to just not think about stuff if it was too difficult. He had managed to separate the fact Lenore was pregnant from the fact he had a bag of exciting new things to try out on her.

The shop had been a bit of a revelation. He knew a few humans did this sort of thing, but had assumed it was like torments in Hell - no-one submitted willingly. He’d never realised that the humans enjoyed it, certainly not that much anyway. Well, until he’d met Lenore he supposed, but he’d always assumed she was just weird.

He was quite excited by the whole thing, wondering what this might mean, how he could use this new knowledge to his advantage. There were apparently whole shops devoted to it. In the basement he’d seen things that he didn’t even recognise, had no idea what they were for, shiny things with straps and knobbly bits and mysterious rubbery things with rings and protruding bits. This could be fun. He took a sly look at Lenore and wondered if the crop would leave nice bruises on her pretty skin, he was sure it would.

Lenore had envisaged going straight upstairs when they got back, but Hastur rushed off to the library to show Charu the purchases, telling him about some humans liking torments and what vibrators were. She was getting a bit fed up of Hell’s complete lack of any sense of decency or decorum. Whilst she was fine with people maybe guessing what they’d bought when they were walking round Soho, she was less happy with Hastur showing off the purchases to one of his underlings.

However, she supposed that was just how things worked in Hell. Hastur’s initial report on their meeting, together with his miracle records, had been read by multiple demons. Charu had been watching at the door when she’d been down there before, even helped her on with her clothes afterwards. Ligur almost certainly knew everything they’d done together too. None of the demons seemed in the slightest bit embarrassed by it. She thought maybe she was just being silly and human about it all and should stop worrying.

Lost in her thoughts she missed what Hastur was doing and cried out in pain when he whacked the back of her thighs with the riding crop. “You bloody well stop that right now” she said crossly. He looked confused and she said in a more reasonable voice “we can go upstairs if you want to use it”. Annoyingly he shook his head, saying instead “I wanna get you a present now”.

Apparently his present involved another trip to Hell. Sinking down through the floor felt different this time. It was clearer somehow and she was less disoriented when they arrived. She wondered if it was just that she was getting used to it, or if it was related to the whole ‘demonic powers’ thing.

The upper halls annoyed her as usual, the staring groups of demons were larger this time and they were pointing and whispering entirely without restraint. They must know about the Antichrist by now she reasoned. She stuck her tongue out at one group and they shuffled away warily. Realising she didn’t have her blessed knife with her she started to worry. Then remembered the flame-thrower effect of hell-fire and felt better.

They were headed off to a different part of Hell that she didn’t recognise. The halls were even busier down here and the division between what was working space and what was corridor seemed blurred. She saw posters admonishing demons not to ‘lick the walls’ and noticed the general background noise had got louder.

In these areas it was impossible not to come into contact with other demons and Hastur ended up barging some out of the way. They didn’t complain and it looked like this was more to do with them being used to it than Hastur getting any special treatment. It felt like a halfway house between the pits and the upper halls and she was less self concious.

Finally they came to a hallway lined with what looked like the doors to the torments rooms - metal with little viewing windows. There were noises of what sounded suspiciously like animals mingled with the odd scream. She looked quizzically at Hastur “Hell-hound breeding pits” he said pulling back one of the windows. She looked in and was immediately confronted by a snarling mask of teeth and pulled her head back involuntarily. “I think he's hungry” confided Hastur. “The puppies are down here” he said heading off down the hall.

Hastur was happy, he liked the hell-hounds. He was unselfconscious around them and they were unconditionally devoted to him. He was always very good at spotting which would make the best breeders and the demons in charge often asked for his help. Like the pits it was an area of Hell he felt he’d been unfairly been forced away from when he’d been promoted. He knew he was important and deserved his promotion, but it was irritating that he didn’t have time to do the things he’d enjoyed before: like tormenting lost souls and playing with puppies.

Lenore was surprised to find hell-hound puppies were very much like normal puppies. Their ears flopped, their feet looked too big for their bodies and their eyes shone expectantly as they made slightly uncoordinated, bouncing steps towards them. Hastur knelt down and started playing with them, stroking them in a suspiciously similar way to how he stroked her. The little hell-hounds loved it, play biting at his hand - although being hell-hounds their needle like teeth still drew a bit of blood.

He beckoned Lenore down to join in. She was cautious, slowly holding her hand out for them to sniff before attempting to touch them, remembering they’d almost certainly never encountered a human before. There was no need to worry as the puppies were all affection, sniffing and licking at her curiously and wagging their tails happily.

Lenore stroked and patted the pups, laughing at the little jumps they made and the incredibly cute attempts at menacing growls and glowing red eyes that they couldn’t keep up for long. She took a sideways look at Hastur who’d lost all pretence of being an evil demon, a happy smile on his face as a small black puppy sat on his knee diligently licking his coat, while he tickled another behind the ears.

One pup in particular seemed to have attached itself to her and was currently trying to nuzzle its way under her skirt. Hastur scooped it up and held it up for inspection. The pup growled at him, flattening back its ears and making its little button eyes glow red. He held his hand up to it and it struggled in his grip waving its stumpy legs about in an attempt to get near enough to bite him.

When he handed the pup to Lenore it had a different reaction to her. The little hound pricked up it’s ears and yapped, tail wagging. “Looks like we’ve found your one pet”. After a few seconds he laughed, then continued to laugh for a long while. “A pet for my pet” he said as he finally regained control of himself.

Lenore frowned, she wasn’t sure she liked being compared to a puppy. Hastur ignored her saying: “you gotta name it now. Nothing silly or human, gotta be a proper sorta name for a hell-hound, tell it what you want it to do”. She looked at its fluffy fur and deep black eyes with a faint glow of red around the outside thinking how cute it was. She then remembered how big and scary the fully grown one was, how it was all sharp teeth and loud snarls - a real monster.

“Baku” she declared eventually. “Wassat mean?” said Hastur suspiciously. “It’s a Japanese monster that eats nightmares” she explained and he seemed pleased with that. “Yeah” said Lenore “I reckon I need a hell-hound to deal with my nightmares, you lot down here have been playing havoc with my sleep and it’s only going to get worse”. Hastur repeated the name and on hearing it ‘Baku the nightmare hound’ wagged its shaggy little tail so enthusiastically, it actually ended up wagging the whole back half of its tiny body.

She carried the little hound with her as they made their way back to the upper halls. Baku squirming in her grip, trying to look round and growling at the odd demon who came too close. She liked the thought of having her own hell-hound, but wondered how you looked after them and if she’d need to feed him. She asked Hastur who vouchsafed “you named it and told it its purpose, its going to eat nightmares for you” he said. That was reassuring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the long day continues into another chapter - hope I’ve managed to explain Lenore’s motivations properly. I also couldn’t resist putting in a bit with Hastur and puppies, all based on the Hell Hound scenes on GO TV but I tried to make it cute, which feels a bit odd...but hey!


	38. In Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last chapter’s excursions they get back to Lenore’s place…. We finally get some more sex now, the question is whether Lenore will be ok with it.
> 
> There is Beelzebub’s briefing to consider too and Ligur comes up for a visit. Just to make sure Hastur is ok obviously, he’s not worried about Lenore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it likely Hastur would have some concerns about his ‘pet human’ after what had happened to her. How much he really understands and how much he is simply acting on instinct is open for debate.

Baku didn’t like Charu at first, baring his sharp little teeth, wrinkling his nose and snarling in as ferocious a way as possible for a tiny hell-hound. Charu thought he was ‘adorable’ and asked his name. Hastur answered explaining what the word meant. Charu cooed at him “Baku, Baky, Baky, Baku” and made a clicking noise with his tongue. The pup calmed down and started sniffing at him, finally succumbing to his charms and wagging his tail as Charu patted his head. 

“Fat lot of use you are as a guard-dog, making friends with demons like that” grumbled Lenore. Hastur replied, ruffling the fur on the pup’s head, “he knows uncle Charu’s ok, don’t you Baku, eh, don’t you? Yes you do” in the manner of people everywhere when talking to cute things.

Lenore sighed, wishing her demon would be more demonic, cute definitely didn’t suit him. “Heel Baku” she commanded and the diminutive nightmare hound bounded up to her, colliding with her feet and spinning off on the polished floor of the hall before leaping back towards her and jumping up. “Well, its a start I guess” she sighed.

Hastur made a dive into the library and came back with the shopping bag. He asked Charu to look after the hound and ushered Lenore upstairs. She was pleased until he called out to Charu “don’t disturb us cuz we’re gonna be shagging”. She really would have to have a word with him about the concept of tact.

When they got upstairs he said “get changed, wanna see how that vibrating thing works”. She confused him by asking him to change the light shades in the room, but he didn't mind. She was weird after all.

He waved a hand at the fittings. Not having much in the way of experience with light shades she ended up with neon strip lights like the ones in down in Hell. She suggested maybe something more like the ones in the library. He didn’t know why she was so picky - a light was a light wasn’t it? - but it was easy to change them and he did want to make her happy.

Taking the chemise off to her dressing room Lenore realised she was shaking as she got changed. Looking down at herself there didn't appear to be any physical damage. Outside she looked and felt exactly the same as before. Only, of course, it was different inside. She was nervous and worried.

She chided herself, she wanted this, it was her idea. She needed to prove she was still ok with him. Apart from suddenly very much needing a new light - the fear of looking up and seeing those glass drop-beads again was very real - apart from that she was ok. He was there to look after her this time, it was different.

She took a deep breath peering round the door of the dressing room. He was sat on the bed staring at the door so saw her furtive glance. "You ok pet?" His voice was calm and mildly curious. He clearly didn't have any qualms after what happened here last night. She nodded at him looking back at the mirror and smiling at her reflection. He had chosen well, the floaty chemise was very nice, very sexy. She concentrated on her mirror-self, posing a little. Yes, she looked good, it was going to be ok.

Hastur waited patiently. He was looking forward to playing with his pet again. He wanted to claim her back from Satan and the rest of Hell. Demonstrate to himself that she didn’t want them, she only wanted him. He was happy she had liked her present and was being so very good for him. Obviously humans were more resilient than he’d thought. He decided he would be careful with her just in case, he didn’t want to upset anything. He’d let her set the pace.

She came out, giving a twirl for his benefit. In a typically Hastur compliment he said “pretty” following it up with “I like that I can see your tits” and motioned for her to get on the bed handing her the vibrator box. He stood watching her as she unwrapped the toy and added batteries, showing him how it worked. He was suspicious and just touched the thing with one finger before pulling back “an’ people like these?” he asked. She nodded. “Go on then pet, give me a show” he said.

Lenore smiled, this was good, she was in control. She'd give him a show alright! Taking off her knickers she lay back on the bed spreading her legs for him. He growled at her and she started touching herself as he watched, unblinking. After a short while she had almost forgotten his presence, relaxing into it, moving her fingers gently, it felt nice.

Then she heard him say “you’ve made yourself all wet you little slut, like being watched do you? Want me to get Ligur so you’ve got a proper audience”. The intense bolts of arousal that shot down her at these words made her realise she’d like him to do just that and she moaned loudly. He grinned “another time pet, go on use that vibrating thing, are you going to cum for me?”

She quickly reached for the vibrator turning it on and pointing it towards her. She played it on her clit to begin with, moaning at the sensation, again nearly forgetting Hastur’s presence. He interjected again “isn’t it meant to go inside?” She started pushing it in and he said “spread your legs more, you wanna make sure I get a good view don’t you?” Nodding agreement she obeyed, stretching her legs wide apart for him.

He was watching intently, standing just a little way off from the bed. She smiled at him before pushing the toy inside then pulling it slowly in and out, her other hand playing on her clit. Hastur’s interested gaze was directed to what she was doing and she lay back as the wave of desire hit her, this was really hot.

Hastur was surprised how much he was enjoying this. He liked telling his pet what to do, liked the way she did what he said without hesitation. He also liked seeing her happy, was that un-demonic?

He had had some experience of human pornography over the years and quite liked it, mainly as a source of inspiration. He’d certainly never got aroused by it like this before, but this seemed to be different, he could feel himself becoming erect at the sight of her. He decided he ought to give her more instructions, more encouragement.

He told her “wanna see you fuck yourself quicker than that, I know you love it hard and fast, go on”. She groaned loudly at his words, she was really enjoying this, loved how he was directing her, watching her. She also appreciated the distance, if he’d tried to trap her wrists again how would she have felt? She pushed the intrusive thought to one side and concentrated, speeding up the movement in and out and feeling thrills shooting down her legs.

Hastur got onto the bed and she wondered what he was up to. Suddenly he took hold of her ankles, lifting and pulling them further apart. He seemed to be really enjoying this. She loved the attention, the way he watched her made her feel really sexy.

He growled at her “should put you on a stage with this, advertise you as my demon slut and get a whole crowd watching, bet you’d love that”. At this she felt her orgasm ripple down and her back arched as she screamed with the unexpected pleasure. He didn’t let go of her legs and, as she looked up, she saw that he continued to watch her through the pulses of her climax.

He finally let her go saying “it was good that, enjoyed it, better than watchin’ porn at the cinema”. The comment took her by surprise, seedy backstreet cinemas putting on blue movies was something she associated with the ‘60s and ‘70s, and she hadn’t even considered demons would want to watch that sort of thing. Then she remembered his enthusiasm at the pornographic lithographs and reflected that being around for six thousand odd years would probably mean you needed to look for new inspiration. She grinned up at him “glad you enjoyed the show, what do you want to do now?”

He didn’t give her an answer but reached into the bag and took out the paddle. Sitting on the edge of the bed he beckoned her over. Putting her over his knees he experimented with it, at first using it to administer light slaps but then getting harder. She cried out as he whacked her hard enough to bruise and he gently stroked her saying “stop complaining pet, I know you like this” squeezing her damaged backside making her squeal again. A few more whacks and she was squirming in real discomfort.

He could hold her still easily enough, but decided to give her room to wriggle out of his grip if she really wanted to. She played up wonderfully, he could sense she was in pain, but not too much, and was trying to escape, but not trying too hard. It was just enough for him to feel his power over her. She was willingly submitting to him, he didn’t have to force her, she wanted him.

Using the paddle wasn’t as intense as real torments, but he was enjoying it. There were faint bruises showing and her cries were of genuine pain, it felt good. In fact it felt so good he wanted to do something about it, maybe get her to say ‘please’ again. Something about getting her to say that word was really hot.

Hastur let her go saying: “hands and knees pet, reckon it’s my turn to cum”. He guided himself into her and, holding onto her hips, said “you want me to fuck you do you little slut?” She answered enthusiastically and he started slowly. He gradually picked up the pace slamming into her hard a few times before stopping entirely “beg me to carry on” he instructed and she did her best.

He started again slowly, saying “tell me how much you want this, tell me you’re my demon slut. I’m not gonna fuck you unless you keep begging me to”. Lenore was pleased. She didn’t know if it was deliberate or not, but he’d put her in charge. He only wanted to do it if she was enjoying it too and if she stopped speaking he’d stop. It reassured her and made her want him all the more. Whether he just wanted her to feed his ego, or if he was being considerate, she didn’t know, but it was good either way.

Telling him how much she wanted it, pleading with him to continue, telling him she was his demon slut and needed him to fuck her caused waves of lust to wash over her. With every word she uttered he seemed to get faster until she could barely keep herself from being knocked over with the violence of it. His cock was much thicker than the vibrator and was sending thrills down her legs. His last few thrusts were less coordinated and he pulled her onto him, holding her completely still as he came.

Before pulling out he stroked her bottom asking if she needed the bruises healing ‘as they’re not really damage’ she said she did indeed. She had no intention of not being able to sit down comfortably. He sighed, but said ‘alright’ pulling out and waving a hand over her. She sat back down on the bed cautiously, but she needn’t have worried, the bruises were gone. 

Before they did anything she wanted to clarify something with him. “You know what you said about getting a crowd to watch? I don’t really want you to do that. Having Ligur here as well would be nice though”. He laughed saying “think I’d let any other demons see how good you are? Be fighting them off all the time if they knew what you was like”. She felt that was a nice compliment and smiled happily “so long as we’re clear” she said satisfied.

Lenore was happy. Everything was ok. Nothing to worry about. Hastur was still exactly the same, she was still the same. Nothing had changed, it was all good. There had been no flashbacks, no panic attacks, she’d had an orgasm, been fucked by a demon and enjoyed it. Maybe she was getting better at dealing with things.

The peace was suddenly shattered by Hastur screaming. “What the heaven is wrong?” she said concerned. It seemed he’d suddenly remembered she was pregnant. She got him to come over and put a hand on her stomach, saying “can you feel it?” and he nodded, she asked “any damage?” She saw him screw up his face in concentration, finally bending his head down and sniffing at her before putting an ear against her. She giggled as his hair tickled her.

He had to admit that no, nothing had changed, and he couldn’t discern any damage. “There you go” she said triumphantly “you can shag me as hard as you want and nothing bad will happen”. He grinned sheepishly, saying “I dunno about this sorta stuff, but if I can keep shaggin’ you that’s ok”.

He suddenly remembered Beelzebub’s briefing and was going to run downstairs when she reminded him he’d agreed to put clean underwear on. Not at all thrilled by this he tried to get out of it, saying the briefing was important. “Yeah, so important you left it on a table while buggering about in sex shops and playing with puppies” she reminded him.

He reluctantly removed his boots then trousers looking down at himself and saying “good few years left in these, dunt see why you want me to change ‘em” she rolled her eyes and he succumbed to the inevitable. Clean white underpants were soon hidden by trousers splashed with Hell’s muddy water and stains of less obvious origin. He said grumpily “least no-one can see them” and headed off to the library to read the file.

Hastur was horrified by the contents of the file. He wasn't allowed to smoke, or not smoke near her anyway. The 'no torments' rule worried him too, had he already managed to break that one? Also, no getting drunk, no leaving the human alone - i.e. within calling distance at all times - he wasn't happy about it.

When she came down from her shower he showed Lenore who said, "smoke in the garden sweetheart. Go. Now. You need it!" He immediately went out to the garden. She followed and he screeched. "You can't be near me, get away". She stood at the door while he ostentatiously blew smoke away from her. 

He then moved on to 'no torments' she pointed out that 'torment' meant 'severe pain and suffering' not spanking. Although, whipping her until she nearly passed out, or scratching until blood poured down her back were, unfortunately, out.

He looked at her thoughtfully at the word 'unfortunately' saying "you really like that don't you?" She just hummed at him in a non-committal way, then looked down at the floor saying "yeah, but only 'cause it's you. Wouldn't let anyone else do it, you're different". He looked pleased at that.

Overall she was reassuring, pointing out the house was large enough for him to have space to himself, and they could still visit Hell. The only thing she couldn’t help with was getting drunk, he was going to miss that.

Lenore was really hungry so ordered pizza. Ligur turned up shortly afterwards - too late for the floor show she thought. He didn’t want pizza and seemed desperate to talk to Hastur on his own. She was exhausted and knew she simply wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. It was so obvious they wanted some time together too that she gave up and went to bed. Hastur stayed downstairs saying "only in the library pet, shout if you need me".

She woke up, not quite screaming, but with flashbacks to the conversation she'd had with Satan and the oppressive horror of it. It took a few seconds to wake up properly, then she heard her little nightmare hound yapping and scratching at the bedroom door. She let him in and he settled down at the end of the bed. She slept soundly the whole of the rest of the night. 

Ligur had found out about Beelzebub's list of things Hastur couldn't do and had been concerned. He suggested maybe they could share the task of guarding the human, or just put her in a cell in the pits. Hastur could do as he liked then. It would make it easier all round too, let the pit demons look after her.

Hastur was cross. She was his pet and, while he didn't mind letting Ligur play with her sometimes, he wasn't going to give her away. He certainly did not want to lock her up. It wouldn't be fair. She had been so good and well behaved, why would he want to punish her? Besides, what if she used her word? He’d have to let her go then and she was sure to discorporate him for locking her up.

Ligur was confused by Hastur’s mention of her ‘word’, surely Satan had put an end to that idea? Hastur must have broken that deal as soon as she realised what was happening and used it to try and stop him. He asked, but Hastur seemed surprised. She hadn’t said it.

That really confused him. Even if she had realised it probably wouldn’t work he’d have expected her to try. She always seemed to have complete faith in Hastur being bound by the contract. He didn’t understand why she didn’t use it.

Maybe she was cleverer than they had thought. Hastur seemed to think he was still bound by the ‘word’, even though Ligur thought is was clear he could get round it now if he wanted to. He found himself reappraising the human, perhaps she wasn’t as stupid as Beelzebub and Satan thought. She still seemed to have Hastur under control and it seemed like she’d get to spend the pregnancy in comfort on earth rather than locked up in the pits as he’d expected.

Ligur tried another tack, pointing out that if they shared the task then it wouldn’t matter if he needed to get drunk. Hastur said angrily that his drinking was entirely under control and he never “needed” to get drunk it was just something he liked doing. Besides, he could get drunk every day after Armageddon so a few months sober now was worth it. He said sulkily that Satan wanted *him* to look after her, not anyone else. If Ligur didn't behave he threatened not to share his rewards with him after the war.

The two demons glared at each other. Ligur gave in, he didn't really want to look after the human, he was only trying to help. He couldn’t remember a single week where Hastur hadn’t got thoroughly drunk at least once though, he certainly couldn’t imaging him managing months of sobriety. He huffed petulantly "alright, but don't complain to me when you're sick of being sober".

Hastur was happy. He didn't want to fall out with Ligur and he'd got his own way again. They smiled at each other. He was still irritated with his fellow demon though. He told Charu to make himself scarce and, as soon as he’d gone, sneakily miracled Ligur's clothes off. His claws grew out and he threw himself at the other demon, spoiling for a fight. That'd teach him for trying to steal his pet.

Back to normal thought Ligur as he attempted to get Hastur in a headlock wincing as the claws dug into his side. After a brief scuffle they settled down to petting and grooming each other while they talked about their day. Hastur gently healed the claw marks enjoying the feel of Ligur’s cool, rough skin under his hand and the way the other demon nearly purred at his touch.

He wasn't pleased when Ligur laughed at the trauma he’d been through having to put clean underwear on. He got his own back though, giggling uncontrollably when Ligur told him Beelzebub's secretary had sent him an invitation to dinner and a posy of deadly nightshade.

He remembered to listen out in case his pet needed him, but she was reassuringly quiet. He was very pleased with the way things were going so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore why Lenore didn’t try to use the safe word to try to stop Satan and Hastur. I had this clear in my mind to begin with, but I’m not sure whether it was clear in my writing up. Lenore may or may not have realised the brand could basically wipe out any protections the contract offered, but inviting a breach (by asking Hastur to stop when she knew he wouldn’t be allowed/be able to) would have destroyed the whole thing as far as she was concerned. Basically preserving the relationship took priority over the ‘last resort’ to try and stop him.
> 
> So - the long day is over at last (for Lenore anyway). The ‘nightmare hound’ might be eating the bad dreams, but will that be enough?
> 
> I wish I had a nightmare hound - nightmares/night terrors are no fun as an adult. Pity they don’t really exist :(


	39. Carrot Sandwich and Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day dawns. Lenore has to face the reality of her situation and Hastur does his best to look after her.
> 
> ***trigger warning for demons being ‘nice’***
> 
> I’ve added a few new tags to cover this - not sure they’re quite right but the best I could think of (belatedly added the Hell-hound to the tags too).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story has veered off again in another odd direction - first sex/relationships, then a coup, then this - it’s still meant to be centred around the dynamic between the characters and how their relationship develops, even if it might feel like it’s taken a strange turn…..

When it got to mid-morning and Lenore still hadn't got up Hastur went to investigate. What he found disturbed him. The curtains were drawn and an unnatural darkness filled the room. From under the covers he could hear the sound of crying.

Asking what the problem was she told him: "what do you think - bloody demons and your Armageddon". He guessed this meant it was his fault somehow so immediately denied it "s'not my fault, I was only trying to help", but that didn't seem to improve anything. From under the covers the sobbing continued, if anything louder than ever. He went back downstairs mystified.

Lenore had known that this was likely to happen. It simply wasn’t possible to keep pretending it was ok forever. How could she have got herself into this situation? Pregnant with a demon-child, used and abused by Hell, her only protector a demon incapable of love who would probably ditch her as soon as possible.

Dagon had said he'd only look after her if she was useful. So if she was useless he'd leave and her only use at the moment was being pregnant. She had nine months left with him and that would be it. Then she’d be alone awaiting the end of the world with no-one to turn to.

The tears kept falling and she hid her head under the covers not wanting him to see her like this. He wouldn’t want her at all if he saw her being all emotional. Probably end up dumped down in Hell for the next nine months getting fatter and uglier all on her own.

Not able to cope with the idea of being alone she determined to try to be normal, in the hope it would persuade him not to leave forever. Unfortunately the more she tried to regain control the worse it got, unable to stop shaking and crying at the horrible bleakness of it all. Trapped in a downward spiral with no way out. Convinced that he'd hate her for being pathetic and emotional, but getting so upset at the thought he hated her that she couldn't stop crying.

Lenore still hadn't got up by the middle of the afternoon, so Hastur went upstairs again, but nothing had changed. He was at a loss, but remembered humans needed food and thought reminding her of that might help things. Saying in a reasonable way "don’t you want to eat pet?"

Mumbling “I’m not hungry” she buried herself deeper under the covers. He shrugged, guessing hunger would make the human get up eventually. He'd noticed his pet usually ate several times a day so would probably be down soon.

As it got to late evening and there was still no sign of her, he started to worry and decided to make something to eat. Looking helplessly around the kitchen and realising he had no idea how to make food happen only made the worrying worse. Determined not to give up he investigated and found bread and some bits and pieces to assemble a sandwich.

"I made food for you pet, you gotta eat, come on, at least try it" shaking the shape under the covers, trying to coax her out. She did sit up long enough to inspect the sandwich: "What is it?"

The obvious but unhelpful answer given was simply “a sandwich”. "What sort of sandwich?" Not understanding the question he answered "with bread, I made it" looking very pleased with himself.

Still not feeling hungry, but not wanting to reject it out of hand after the effort he’d made, she took a bite. Jam and crisps, salt and vinegar flavoured crisps. It made her smile and Hastur breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the sandwich was consumed.

Unfortunately the effect didn't last long and she was soon back under the covers crying. Her constant apologies for the inconvenience and all the 'extra work' created, was very confusing to the demon. He wanted to look after her, it was his job now too, besides, she was his pet and had the Antichrist in her. Making a sandwich wasn’t much work when he’d get Armageddon out of it.

This state of affairs went on for well over a week. Hastur reckoned he was getting the hang of making food, well sandwiches anyway. He'd tried various things in them. The red stuff out of a bottle seemed good, 'ketchup' he remembered, and cheese was good too. Cheese and ketchup worked together and jam was ok, but not with either of the other two. The orange crunchy things had made her giggle and sob - apparently 'carrots' didn't normally go in sandwiches. Food was obviously quite complicated.

Despite her constantly telling him not to bother, the sandwiches were always eaten so he must be doing something right. There were occasional suggestions that maybe certain things didn’t really go in sandwiches and he took note of her advice. Crying in bed all day still didn’t feel like a good thing though.

She allowed Baku in the room, and let him bring sandwiches, but otherwise told him to leave her alone. In fact she didn’t even want him to look at her, hiding under the covers and mumbling “I look too awful, don’t want you to see me” or similar. She still looked very pretty to him and he told her so, but wasn’t believed.

She kept saying he would leave her too, which he found really confusing - why would he want to leave her? He liked having a pet. Well, he admitted, he liked having this particular pet, he wasn't sure he'd feel the same about just any human. He worried that she didn't seem happy and wanted to do something about it, but didn't know what.

She'd stopped washing too: hair all tangled up and still wearing the same pyjamas. He liked it, it was more demonic, but it wasn't like her. Lenore seemed upset by the way she looked too, but at the same time unable or unwilling to do anything about it. She told him she was useless and ugly and just to ignore her.

Hastur was concerned, but couldn't leave to ask anyone for help while he was meant to be guarding her and was unsure who he could ask anyway. He’d usually ask Ligur, but didn’t think his fellow demon would have any more idea about human stuff than he did, possibly less. He was very out of his depth, but felt the need to do something. Finally hitting on a plan to make her feel better he went upstairs.

Ignoring the requests for him to leave and pulling back the covers, he scooped her up in his arms. She couldn't be bothered even to struggle. Once in the bathroom he removed her pyjamas noticing how nice they smelled. Pity to wash away all that nice warm human smell. He shoved them surreptitiously into his seemingly bottomless coat pockets. He really liked her smell, but knew it wasn't right for humans to stop washing.

He turned the shower dials as he had seen her do and warm water came out. That was a good sign. He then did a thing he'd never done before, never even considered doing before. He took off all his clothes and got into the shower, under the water jets.

Pulling Lenore to her feet, he got the bottle of smelly bubbly stuff and started applying it to her body. She wasn't reacting particularly, but made no move to stop him, even lifting her arms and letting him turn her this way and that. Pouring a large amount into her hair it frothed up alarmingly, but washed away ok.

He continued rubbing the stuff all over her, in the same manner she had done before. It was slippery and felt nice, even if he wasn't sure about the smell. She felt nice too, all soft and warm with smooth skin. As he carefully rubbed the bubbles over her breasts he realised he was getting very aroused.

Hastur cautiously tried a kiss and finally got her attention. She looked up into his black eyes and smiled weakly. Continuing to kiss her as he kept rubbing at her breasts and nipples, despite having washed all the soap away some time ago. She sighed gently and he assumed that meant she wanted him to continue.

He ran his hands down to her waist then hips, pulling her towards him. The sensation of warm, wet, slippery skin pressed against him was a feeling he'd never encountered before. It was very nice indeed.

Lenore must have noticed his erection as she gently took hold of it. Hastur kissed her again moaning softly as she started moving her hand up and down his shaft. Her other arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him tight into her.

The intimacy of the contact, the strange prickling of warm water and the movement of her hand on his cock caused intense waves of pleasure to wash over him. Continuing to kiss her while she wanked him the overload of sensations soon made him cum. It hit her body running down as the water washed it away.

Oh, that was good. Maybe this was why humans were always washing he mused. He touched her, moving his hand downwards with the intention of returning the favour, but she shook her head indicating she wanted to get out of the shower.

He got towels and gently dried her body and was surprised when she started drying him. They went, hand in hand, back to the bedroom, both still naked. It was lighter in there now. The curtains still drawn, but the unnatural shade had dissipated.

She stepped away from him slightly, admiring his body, and he felt exposed and shy again. Reaching out to sense her emotions, hoping to feel the same squirming 'L word' sensation as before, he got something rather more intense.

His pet was radiating a kind of buzzing, pulsing feeling, the squirming L-word maggots were there underneath, but above and around them was something that felt entirely alien. He was hit with another wave of it: vision flooding with bright colours and an intense warmth overtaking him. As the heat washed over him he suddenly felt as if he was in free-fall with no control over it, but still strangely relaxed and happy. Then the sensation was gone.

Maybe he'd got better at feeling it, or maybe she'd got better at projecting it, but just for a couple of seconds it had felt more like her description of the L word than he'd ever felt before. 

Trying to articulate it all he could think to say was "it felt like more than just maggots this time pet". She smiled, a full, genuinely happy looking smile. Looking at her quizzically she said softly "thank you" and started crying again. As she was still smiling while the tears fell he decided it wasn't a bad thing.

At this point Baku ran into the room doing his best hell-hound growl, round eyes glowing a deep, menacing red. When the hound saw who was there he stopped the growls and started a manic tail wagging, barking happily. Hastur practically ran to the bathroom to regain his clothes feeling unaccountably embarrassed at being seen naked by the hound.

Lenore laughed, a sound he realised had been missing of late. It cheered him up, despite the trauma of being seen by the hound. As she got dressed at a leisurely pace he asked "you ok now pet?" The reply wasn’t entirely reassuring: "no, not really, but better than I was. You coped well, thank you for looking after me". He left it at that, still not really understanding, but glad she was a bit better at least.

Downstairs Lenore was surprised to find the kitchen tidy after Hastur’s sandwich making exploits. It had probably been Charu who’d done the tidying up. However, the milk was off, the supply of anything you could put in sandwiches was heavily depleted and the bread had started to go mouldy. She wondered how long she'd been eating mouldy sandwiches without noticing.

Although Hastur's successful attempt at making her feel better had worked for now, things still didn't feel right. Her demon had been so nice to her and so gentle, without any real need to be. She felt very grateful and wanted so much to make an effort to get up and be normal, no matter how difficult. He deserved better from her and she determined to try and hide her feelings and be good for him.

Hastur watched while she ordered shopping on-line. He was curious, so she explained. He didn't understand. She finished the shopping and ended up trying to explain what the internet was. It was difficult, as the explanation had to start with what a computer was and it was a bit of a nebulous concept to her too. Hastur asked a lot of questions and it was starting to make her head hurt.

Trying to search for something to distract him they ended up watching serial killer documentaries on YouTube for a few hours. Lenore sat close, holding onto his coat as if she was frightened he might try to leave if she let go. He tried to stoke her hair but it was still a tangled mess and he ended up getting his fingers caught and had to pull some out by the roots to get free.

For some reason Hastur didn’t understand she apologised and told him how awful she looked again. The silly human had obviously got confused and had it all the wrong way round. He was the one who looked awful, she was pretty. Trying to tell her was pointless, she seemed to think he was 'just trying to be nice'. Like an evil demon would ever try to be nice!

Lenore then agreed he was evil and apologised for being stupid. He didn't think she was stupid - just prone to getting confused. He thought it would be a good idea to reassure her and so told her she was pretty and good and clever and brave and how proud he was of her for growing Armageddon for him.

It didn’t seem to cheer her up, in fact the silly human just started crying again. His pet really was behaving strangely. Unsure how to react he hugged her closer and hesitantly suggested having a look at some files. It didn’t work. With a heavy sigh she said “I’m useless, I can’t even concentrate enough to read anything, just leave me here”.

He hastened to correct himself: “don’t mean you should do any work pet”. Instead he suggested Charu or whoever was there could fetch the files for some of the killers they'd been hearing about. "Be nice to know they're being tormented in Hell wouldn't it? See what sentences they got".

This successfully distracted her. “What do you mean by 'sentences', isn't it all 'eternal torment'?” Taking great pleasure in the gory details he explained about different types and terms for torments.

“What happens to souls who aren't being tormented? Do you have a containment unit like you said Heaven had". The demon was horrified at the idea. "We're not like that in Hell, we're fair. They got a library with books to read and we give them work, bailing out water and maintenance. I reckon it's why the leaks never get fixed. Maintenance is all tormented souls, no incentive to make life easier for us demons see?"

Lenore was intrigued and completely distracted, which had been the idea. He figured humans were naturally curious so keeping her busy and interested might stop all this scary emotional stuff from happening. Demons didn't really understand human emotions. They seemed to be dangerous though. If he hadn't been feeding her what would have happened? She might have made herself ill not eating like that.

They went to the library and encountered Charu. Lenore immediately felt guilty for not helping with the work lately, but Charu didn't seem put out. He looked up from his files and said "your hair is a mess, come here". She recalled him plaiting Brontes hair after the party and allowed him to sit her down in front of him.

Taking a tool that looked a bit like a large, double-headed toothpick he started gently teasing out the tangles. Charu methodically worked through her hair, using his fingers as much as the pick. Tutting to himself after a while and saying "need some stuff on it". Taking a small bottle out of his pocket and adding a few drops to his hands then continuing his work.

Lenore was enjoying the sensation, but worried about how much work this was creating. Charu told her he liked doing it. Then seemed upset at only having horns saying: “before the glorious revolution I had beautiful, long, golden hair” and looking very sad. Upsetting the demon like that made her cry again, even after being reassured none of it was her fault.

Once finished he patted her shoulder saying "done, looks much better". She ran a hand through untangled, soft, clean hair. The stuff he had put on it smelled acrid, like she’d been standing too close to a bonfire. It had certainly helped the shine though. Smiling and saying "thank you" made Charu look very awkward, blushing and mumbling "s'ok". Hastur hastened to explain "it's a human thing, all this being polite, she does it a lot".

Lenore determined do something to say thank you in a way that wouldn't embarrass them. The only thing she could think of was cooking lunch for them. Back down in the kitchen a lot more food had gone off, and she eventually gave up on fresh produce altogether. There was enough in the pantry to make a decent tuna pasta bake which, topped with the last of the cheese, looked quite appetising.

Hastur watched every step, asking what things were and what she was doing and how long you needed to do things for. So many questions. It was tiring and she resolved to find some cookery programs to watch instead.

It was still early, but feeling very tired Lenore announced she was going back to bed. Hastur came upstairs too, suggesting he stay to watch over her. Having a demon watching you sleep sounded a bit weird. She didn’t really want him to see her crying again either, but was too tired to argue.

Baku lay across the bottom of the bed and Hastur sat at the desk nearby turning to face the bed and staring unblinkingly. She suggested mildly that perhaps he could bring some work up. It was making her jittery having him stare so intently. He was reluctant, but in the end got some files.

As soon as she settled down he stopped working and looked at her properly.There were no visible changes yet, but he could sense the thing growing inside her. It was only a tiny cluster of cells and wasn’t even fully implanted. In human terms it wouldn’t even register as a pregnancy.

However, his heightened demon senses could feel a life-thread beginning to form. He imagined it as a tiny spindle just beginning to attract the raw ether needed to twist into the thread that would ultimately be spun into a life.

The process felt precarious. Beelzebub’s briefing seemed to take for granted the successful growth and birth of the child, but to Hastur it felt very different. The tiny ball of potential wasn’t even really alive yet. The collection of enough energy to spin a proper life would take time. There was so much that could go wrong - even with Satan’s unholy energy behind it, it felt very vulnerable.

The demon resolved to do everything possible to protect and look after her, even if it meant getting so perilously close to washing again. Reluctantly he admitted the water had actually felt quite nice. Maybe washing wasn’t too bad. Certainly wouldn’t do it regularly though.

He resumed watching, letting his mind wander a little, thinking about the magic of Hell’s vengeance growing and multiplying into a real living thing inside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still very early days for the pregnancy - you can’t even really call it a pregnancy at barely two weeks in, but for the purpose of the story it is obviously going to progress so we’ll take it as a given.
> 
> Throwing a lot of depression symptoms at poor Lenore here - but it’s only just after a pretty hefty trauma so to be expected really. I’ve applied the word ‘caring’ to Hastur, which feels odd but also appropriate given it’s all about Armageddon which he has always cared about. Hope the changes in direction and to the characters haven’t spoilt things anyway….


	40. Curry and Torments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore still isn’t feeling great and Hastur continues to be ‘caring’ as best a demon can be.This time she does the cooking though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of indulgence on the cookery front here - I like cooking and watching it so wanted to throw some into the story. Sorry if it seems a bit forced….

Lenore awoke and saw Hastur sat looking at her in that disconcerting, unblinking way. His first words were "you move around a lot for someone who's meant to be resting, and talk, you talk nonsense whilst you're asleep". Well that was embarrassing. "What did I say?"

"Something about sandwiches and fire and you said my name". It wasn't total nonsense then thought Lenore breathing a sigh of relief.

Getting up and dressed, despite the heavy dragging feeling inside her, felt like an achievement. The shopping arrived at 10am and she made coffee and breakfast. Hastur paid a lot of attention, asking loads of questions again. "In case you can't get out of bed again and I have to cook " he explained. That was sweet. Very tiring, but sweet.

Lenore showed him how to make porridge in the microwave, using water not milk - "that way you can still make it even the milk is off".

"Its horrible" he decided. After adding salt he said it was better, then better again with crumbled cheese on top. Strangely enough 'cheese porridge' did taste nice, like risotto, but with oats, she supposed.

Plugging the laptop into the TV in the drawing room they watched Masterchef on BBC catch-up. It fascinated him.

It proved food was just as complicated as he’d thought. People, who were supposed to know what they were doing constantly got stuff wrong, putting things that tasted horrible together and burning stuff.

He laughed when the head chef in the ‘professional kitchen’ shouted at them for being too slow and made one of them cry. This was meant to be entertainment. He smiled happily. Humans really were evil to each other and enjoyed it. Just like demons.

Breathing in his burning rubber and rotting vegetation smell soothed Lenore. She fell asleep again leaning into him and was woken by him shaking her.

"You were cryin' while sleeping, what's the matter?" he asked, concerned. "Don't want to be pregnant, don't want the Antichrist, don't want the end of the world, don’t want you to leave me, it's not fair" she wailed.

To comfort her he told her, eyes shining with enthusiasm, that after Armageddon nothing would ever be unfair again. She laughed bitterly, which turned into hiccuping tears.

He held her close trying to soothe her by telling her how the forces of darkness would rise up, lay waste to the earth and clear all the smug bastard angels out of heaven.

It didn't work. Even when he told her about how he'd have a big airy office with comfortable chairs without holes in and no leaking pipes. She kept crying. He gave up and just held her instead, which seemed more successful.

She suddenly announced she was going to cook again. "Gonna make curry, hot curry, might cheer me up". He didn't know what that was but followed her to the kitchen. She eyed him doubtfully "do you like spicy stuff?" He didn't know. "One way to find out" she said.

Curry seemed complicated to Hastur. Lenore took a much stained bit of paper out of a box full of little jars, he sniffed the box and was overwhelmed by a complex mix of scents, most completely unfamiliar to him. The paper just had a list of words he didn't recognise, with a number and either 'tsp' or 'tbsp' next to it. She said it was a 'recipe'.

She pottered around at first, using spoons to put powders into a bowl and larger bits into a second bowl. She got a frying pan, another one of the coffee grinders and a second thing with spinning blades called a ‘blender’. He was curious and went to examine it.

"Don't stick your hand in there" she admonished him. Then she took bright coloured shiny things, brown and white papery things and an oddly gnarled root. "Chilli, onion, garlic and ginger" she said. "Do they go in sandwiches?" He asked hopefully. She said they certainly didn't. 

The next stage involved something he really didn't like. She put the non-powdered bits into the pan, he leant over to watch and the smell hit the back of his throat and he started spluttering.

"Yeah, it'll be the mustard seeds and peppercorns, they tend to be quite strong, the other spices won't be as bad" she said. He wasn't sure whether they were edible, voicing his concerns.

"You might not like it, tends to cheer me up. I'm feeling a bit depressed, so normal food doesn't taste of much. I need strong flavours and it's a good idea to cook while I've got the energy".

He asked why she'd be depressed and she rolled her eyes saying "you really don't get it do you?" He didn't get it so just asked how she knew what to do about it.

"Depression is just a thing that comes and goes. Sometimes there's a reason, like now. Other times it just creeps up on you. Like you’ve crawled into a dark hole and you don’t know how you got there or how to get out. Just stuck in the dark forever. Only it never is forever really, but it’s hard to remember that".

She sighed, sounding bored, like this was normal, but it sounded weird to the demon. He then remembered that his pet human had always been weird, so that was ok.

Thinking about it, it kind of made sense. The bit about a dark hole especially. It’s what he’d done after the fall, crawled to the dark caves and hid. Ligur had helped him, maybe he needed to help his pet and then everything would be alright again.

He found he liked the idea of being helpful, but decided it was undemonic. It was probably ok because he was only really helping to make sure Armageddon happened, wasn’t he? That was properly demonic so no problem there. He definitely wasn’t helping her just because he wanted to see her happy - certainly not.

The cooking process continued: stuff was whizzed in the grinder and sieved, stuff was blended, some sort of fat was added out of a tin ('ghee' apparently), things were mixed together. In the end there was a red/orange paste that smelled very strong, but quite nice. She then said "you can just buy this in jars, but I like making it".

This wasn't the end of the process though. More onions were fried, the paste and meat added, then tinned tomatoes, chopped peeled potatoes and water. She stuck the big pot in the oven and said "needs at least two hours" and went back upstairs.

He followed, perplexed, why spend so long making food when sandwiches were so much easier? She lay against him on the sofa and asked him to tell her about something as she didn't think she could concentrate on television any more. He talked about the things most on his mind: the trials.

Hastur's voice was soothing. The actual words were disturbing, all about torments, questioning and sentences. She felt sorry for the demons at first, then remembered Hastur bleeding and covered in burns. She stopped feeling so sorry for them.

At least being quiet and giving him all her attention seemed to make him happy. It was the one thing she could do for him at the moment, so she was determined not to get upset by the gory details, and the details were often very unpleasant. He'd taken a fairly active part in the early torments, losing interest as time went on. She wondered out loud why that was.

He answered readily enough "long trials get boring pet, different demons, but the same questions, same implements, even the screams start to sound the same. It's hard work torments is. You gotta be consistent between all the accused and keep all the notes properly. If there’s no variety it stops being fun".

She thought ‘fun’ was an odd word to use, but knew how much Hastur liked hurting things so supposed it was ‘fun’ to him. The idea that you’d get bored of torturing hadn’t occurred to her before. It was apparently just a job in Hell, maybe a difficult unpleasant job, but a job nonetheless.

His matter of fact descriptions of using burns and knives to cause horrible damage made her wonder at his restraint when doing it to her. He tried to explain again why she was different. As far as she could tell it just seemed mainly to come down to her reactions and arousal.

Having someone agree to torments apparently made it different, that and the fact there were no questions, no notes to keep, no rules on type or duration of torment - he could do whatever he wanted. Well, so long as she agreed. He then vaguely muttered about submission and power, ending up with the inevitable "it's just different that's all".

Hastur wished Lenore would stop getting so confused about the torments. He wasn't sure why she found it so difficult. He'd told her she was different and that should be enough. At least she wasn't crying now. Talking to her seemed to make her happy. He liked her being happy.

He liked telling her things too, it was fun talking about torments to someone who seemed to understand them. She tried to hide her reactions but he could sense she knew which bits were the nastiest and she appreciated his skill in a way Ligur didn’t. He could talk for hours about torments, but Ligur got bored when he went into too much detail.

He guessed it was because Ligur had never really been through much in the way of torments himself. His performance was too good to get many disciplinaries. Whereas his human understood what it felt like, and how much he enjoyed it, so made for a better audience. He was enjoying himself.

The alarm went off for food and Lenore served the curry with rice and some odd shaped bread warmed in the oven. She dished up enough for three but warned both demons they might not like it, giving them glasses of milk 'in case it burns'.

They were both wary, it sounded dangerous, food was meant to be nice wasn't it? She ate and they noticed she became flushed, got snuffly and her eyes watered slightly. She seemed to be enjoying it though. Charu tried it, then spat it out making a loud screeching noise. She advised drinking the milk, which seemed to help.

Hastur was very hesitant, on the one hand the human was eating it, on the other his fellow demon looked like he'd been poisoned.

"It will burn, but it tastes good and makes you feel better" she said between sniffs. He tried some, it was nice, then it started heating his mouth and hit the back of his throat and nose. He took a deep breath, which just seemed to make the burning worse.

Lenore didn’t look concerned "you've been tormented in Hell sweetheart, I'm sure you can manage a curry". Reluctant to appear weak in front of a human he persevered. The burning continued, he had milk, which helped, but made the next mouthful burn even worse.

When he got a little used to it he agreed it did taste very good and he managed to finish it. As he drank milk, happy that the 'torment' was over, he started to get a hint of euphoria. He felt good, maybe she had something. He still turned down the offer of another plate.

After eating she went to bed again. Hastur went up with her insistent on watching her sleep. Baku went up with them too. She suddenly got very agitated about the hound "he should be walked, he must need exercise".

Hastur said he'd been taking him into the garden, but she didn't think that was enough. She said sleepily "have to get him a collar and lead, take him to Hampstead Health". 

He didn’t understand so she had to explain what she meant. Hastur recalled seeing humans walking round with dogs like that, but wasn’t sure why. She said "it stops them running off, getting lost or stolen, or attacking people".

He mused out loud "maybe I should put you on a lead, you're my pet and I don't want you getting lost or stolen". She told him 'no' in an irritated voice, but then went more thoughtful and said maybe he could have her on a lead in the bedroom if he wanted to.

Hmmm, that really wouldn’t help with keeping her safe, but something about the idea very much appealed. He considered it for a bit and realised he was getting an erection. Unfortunately she'd fallen asleep so he couldn't tell her.

She slept in late and, when she eventually woke up, said she couldn't deal with anything and went back to sleep. He put some of the curry in a bowl and cautiously tried heating it in the microwave. After a few seconds he decided it wasn't working so he used hell-fire, scorching the kitchen slightly.

He knew she wasn't asleep when she told him she was and he insisted she had to eat. She sat up huffily and he saw she'd been crying again. He used a strict tone telling her his pet had to eat. She complied, drinking the milk afterwards but then going back to sleep. He was in and out all day, but even when she was awake she didn't take much interest.

He was starting to worry again, so decided she needed hugging and stroking, as that had worked before. As she wouldn't get out of bed he got in with her. He thought it was helping even though she said it wasn't.

After a while both of them fell asleep. They woke up when Lenore started screaming. "Nightmare" she said shakily. He went to fetch Baku and the rest of the night was undisturbed.

Next morning was very dark and he realised it was her again. An unconscious use of demonic powers on the lighting level. She wanted to stay in bed, but he didn't think it was a good idea. "Gotta walk Baku" he said reasonably. At the sound of his name the not-so-little hound barked happily.

"You can't let your nightmare hound get fat, I think you've been feeding him too much". She smiled and agreed to get up to walk him. Hastur surreptitiously miracled up a collar and lead and they went out, Baku straining against the unfamiliar restraint.

Hampstead Heath wasn't far away so they walked there. On the whole Hastur liked it, cities generally made him a bit uncomfortable these days.

He told Lenore how London used to be dark and damp and smelly with drains in the streets, the river full of nasty slimy stuff, feral dogs and rats and the pervasive smell of wood smoke, animal dung and human misery. He'd liked it then. It was too clean now.

They went to the top of Parliament Hill and looked out towards the city. "Don't like all them tall buildings, full of glass windows and clean stuff" he told her “too much like heaven”.

That was confusing - “thought you wanted to take over heaven and have an office there with a window and clean chairs?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it pet. Suppose I could board the window up if it’s too bright, or maybe have one of the nicer offices in Hell if all the other demons are up in heaven”.

Lenore wasn’t sure exactly why he wanted to take over heaven if he wasn’t going to spend any time there, but didn’t argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caring demons seem a bit too weird to sustain long term so things pick up again a little after this. Still obvious changes to the relationship, but maybe getting a bit more back to normal in the next chapter…maybe


	41. Crawling and Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from their walk and up to the bedroom - Hastur deserves something fun after all his efforts looking after her and he will get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags here - which will probably become even more relevant as the pregnancy progresses - and yes, there will be a bit more about the pregnancy, in amongst the unlikely combo of sex and demonic work.

They wandered back and he noticed Lenore appeared a bit more like her usual self. It didn't last. As soon as they got back she wanted to go to bed again.

He went up with her and asked "do I need to wash you again?" She wrinkled her nose asking "do I smell?" in a concerned voice. Hastur took the opportunity to sniff her, starting with her hair and moving down the rest of her body. For some reason this made her giggle.

He said all he could smell were clean clothes and she'd better take them off if he was going to smell her properly. She allowed him to undress her and he started smelling her again. He lifted her onto the bed and went from sniffing to kissing and licking her. "You smell good and taste good, my pretty pet. Wish I could hurt you, wanna hear you scream".

This made her cry. She really wailed, raging against the pregnancy and the ‘bloody Antichrist’. "Want you to hurt me, want to scream for you, it’s not fair". She looked so miserable he didn't know what to say. He'd never had anyone crying because he wasn't going to hurt them before.

He tried the stroking thing again but it didn't seem to work. He tried to think of other things she liked, eventually asking cautiously if she wanted to see his wings again. It worked and she stopped crying saying shakily "could try grooming them for you".

That was actually a good idea, the last time he'd had his wings done was when Ligur had been up. While he could do them himself it was awkward and it felt much nicer if someone else did it so he hadn’t touched them since.

He took his coat and shirt off, she looked wistful asking if he'd take the rest off. "Later" he promised enjoying the way she smiled at his words. Shaking his wings out he marvelled again at how she looked at him, like he was something beautiful and precious.

Indeed, as he was thinking that, she sighed saying "beautiful creature". Slightly uncomfortable with her admiring him like that he quickly dragged a chair up to the bed sitting with his back to it and inviting her to begin. 

She was hesitant at first and he had to tell her not to be too gentle. She gained in confidence, teasing the feathers into position and smoothing along their lengths. Working on the undamaged wing first, before moving onto the more difficult, slightly twisted side.

She was really good. A bit rougher than Ligur, as he'd instructed her to be, and he enjoyed it. Even forgetting to feel self conscious about his damaged wing. He told her when it felt particularly good, directing her to attend to certain parts.

When she finally finished he turned and saw his pretty pet, naked and smiling at him, and felt something unfamiliar wash over him. It felt warm and floaty and not at all unpleasant.

"Are you going to undress for me?" She asked. He had an idea "only if I can put you on a lead". She whined softly, nodding and saying "can you keep your wings out?" He grinned at her, he’d been right, she really did like his wings.

Removing the rest of his clothes he gave a dramatic finger snap and he was holding a lead connected to a leather collar round her neck. He felt a wave of lust from Lenore and (possibly due to her new demonic powers adding strength to it) it nearly knocked him over. This was going to be fun. He felt his own waves of lust surfacing too and realised he was becoming erect already.

Hastur pulled gently on the lead forcing her to stand and come towards him. He kissed her, pulling her into him with a hand on her bottom.

He suddenly pulled the lead downwards forcing her onto her knees. "Hands and knees pet, wanna see you crawl for me". He started pulling the lead walking round the bedroom watching her crawling after him.

He was flooded with a sense of power and pulled harder forcing her closer. Tugging on the lead he said "that's right, good pet, come closer, want you right by my feet when I walk you".

He heard her whining again and felt another wave of lust. He carried on walking round the bedroom feeling her crawling body close against his legs.

The lead had been a wonderful idea. Giving up control, crawling at his feet, making herself abject and vulnerable for him was so hot. His thoroughly demonic appearance, complete with wings, just made it even better.

She’d felt the urge to kneel at his feet the first time she’d seen those wings, now here she was, crawling so close as he held her lead taut. Completely his to direct.

She revelled in it, her demon, so evil, so dangerous, completely devoting his attentions to her, to making her his pet, playing with her, making her crawl for his amusement. She could feel sharp stabs of desire and knew she would be very wet for him whenever he wanted her.

Hastur was enjoying forcing her to crawl, it was a crude way of exerting his dominance but he felt he needed more. Stopping, he tugged on the lead forcing her head up to his cock.

"You ok to let me do this?" He asked tugging her closer. "Oh yes" she said quietly. “Open your mouth then pet” and she did. Using the lead he pulled her onto him, using one hand to hold her head in place he started fucking her mouth.

He was careful and gentle at first and she had no problems accommodating him. As he got more into it he thrust harder and deeper and heard her gagging and coughing. He managed to slow down again, he didn't want to choke her.

He couldn’t keep a slower pace though, his demon desires were for something harder and rougher. Realising he couldn’t get what he needed this way he pulled out and used the lead to take her to the bed and got her to climb on, facing away from him.

"Legs apart" he instructed her and she obeyed. When she felt his hand touching her she groaned pushing into him. He pulled sharply on the lead forcing her head down onto the bed.

She felt his hand on her back holding her down and his cock nuzzling her. "So wet for me. You're such a little demon slut aren't you pet?" He said in a low voice.

She hummed her agreement, but instead of pushing into her he pulled back. Lenore whined in disappointment. Then she felt the tips of his claws resting on her back and this time her whine was of anticipation.

Hastur knew he couldn't really hurt her, but desperately wanted to prolong the rush of power he'd got from making her crawl. Gently dragging his claws along her back, barely putting on any pressure, he felt her anxiety building, her breathing quickened and he got a flash of fear. It felt good.

He moved so the points started trailing down her leg, then round and up the sensitive inside of her thigh. She was quivering with a mixture of lust and fear now, panting hard as she forced herself to stay still, head down, legs apart, completely exposed.

"That's right. Good pet. Stay down. Stay still for me" he purred at her, as the sharp points of his claws reached the top of her thigh. He was barely touching her as he moved across her entrance and up towards her clit.

She was near to panic, getting genuinely scared now. Hastur frowned, he didn't want her too frightened. "I won’t hurt you pet, not if you're good and stay still for me. You’ve got to be good for me though".

There was just a slight undercurrent of menace to his words exhorting her to stay still and be good. An almost implied ‘or else’ to what would otherwise be a reassurance. He wanted to keep her guessing, enjoying her waves of fear.

As he scratched delicately round her sex making her shiver Lenore felt utterly powerless. She knew how sharp those claws were, how dangerous. Forcing herself to keep control she concentrated on staying still for him, being good.

Just with the tips of his claws he held her entirely under his control, barely touching her but with complete power over her. As she realised how helpless and vulnerable she was, bolts of desperate lust shot through her and she moaned aloud. Behind her she heard him growl appreciatively.

This felt amazing, she was radiating an intoxicating mix of fear and lust. Her breathing coming in fast shallow pants as alternating waves of panic and longing washed towards him.

He was getting such a rush from this, he had total dominance over her. She was being so good for him, trembling with adrenaline but forcing herself to hold still as the wickedly sharp points traced intricate patterns on her sensitive skin.

It seemed clear that she had either forgotten he couldn’t really scratch, or thought he would do it anyway. Yet here she was, holding herself still for him, letting him get so close to really hurting her.

She was his pet completely and willingly. It felt as if he could ask anything and she would obey without question. He held so much power it was starting to make him dizzy, almost drunk with the sensation.

His claws trailed round and round and her desire built with each delicate touch. As one claw moved to very carefully play over the surface of her clit she couldn’t help but moan and move slightly, desperate for more contact. Still frightened of the sharpness of those claws.

“Hmmm, little demon slut . You like this don’t you? Are you going to cum with just the tips of my claws?” As he said it she felt the light touch again, barely making contact. It was so frustrating and so frightening, but at the same time sent waves of pleasure rippling through her.

“Please Hastur, oh please, please” she didn’t know what she was asking for as the maddeningly slow and delicate touches continued. It was impossible for her to stay completely still and, as she pushed back ever so slightly she felt the knife-like tips starting to pierce the skin.

With a sudden breath in at the tiny pinpricks of pain she tried to gain control again. It was so hard not to move, but so rewarding. His total mastery over her, achieved so easily, made her whine in desperation. She wanted to be his completely, give in to whatever he did to her, be utterly subservient to his merest whim.

Hastur was intrigued. He could see her wetness, sense her intense arousal. He also knew how frightened she was of getting hurt like this. When she moved slightly and flinched at the pain it felt so good. So much control with so little effort.

He let a single claw drag slightly at her clit. Just on the edge of painful, so close to damaging her. The sensation was overwhelming. Lenore couldn’t cope, felt like she would explode with the tension of it. The excruciatingly light touch was too much.

He was barely moving, hardly touching her, but felt her vivid flash of arousal. The demon watched fascinated as her orgasm washed over her. The barest minimum of contact and this was the result. She was wonderful, giving such a soft cry, as she desperately tried to stop herself pushing into him.

It was impossible for her not to move a little and he saw tiny droplets of blood forming where his claws dug in, just a fraction too deep. He suddenly wanted her so much, he had to possess her now, he couldn't prolong this any further.

Withdrawing his hand he pushed himself roughly into her as her orgasm continued to wash over her. The intense ripple of her lust hit him as he smashed against her hips.

He was fucking her hard when she felt him pulling on the lead, forcing her head back painfully. "You liked crawling at my feet didn't you? Liked my claws. You're mine aren't you?" 

She gasped, the taut lead pulling at her collar made speech slightly difficult. Through her orgasmic haze she managed to say "yes, yours", the admission making yet more sharp darts of pleasure stab down inside her.

He continued his hard, fast pace. "Tell me you're my demon slut, that you want me to fuck you, say please again". She had hardly started trying to speak the words when she heard him cry out and shove himself hard into her, shouting loudly at each of the last few thrusts.

He let the lead go slack and she cautiously lifted herself and turned round. What she saw made another wave of lust course through her. Still holding her lead was a real demon, wings flared out behind him, eyes black, claws out.

He looked magnificent and terrifying, her body was overtaken with desire at the sight of him. He clearly sensed her reaction and grinned looking down at her "good pet". That was too much for her and she moaned loudly.

The collar and lead disappeared. "Going to do that again. Really like having you crawl. Can't make you scream, but I can still make you mine". He growled at her, remembering the sense of power that had overwhelmed him. 

He sat back looking at her. "You liked my claws too didn’t you my little demon slut?” Through the haze she nodded agreement and saw his grin widen.

It was a dangerous, predatory grin, teeth slightly too sharp, eyes so black they should be expressionless but somehow holding a hungry look. He owned her and he knew it. As the thought hit her another wave of desire washed over her. She couldn’t resist him if she wanted to and she didn’t want to, she wanted, no needed, to surrender, to give in to him entirely.

Hastur was still thinking about what he’d just done, the rush he’d experienced, without even hurting her. “Reckon we'll manage without torments pet, still got that crop to try on you. Gonna put you on a lead again too, that was brilliant, you were such a good pet for me, so obedient". She smiled at him, still feeling unable to speak yet. The whole thing had been so intense. 

Swaying slightly she eventually said breathlessly "beautiful demon: black eyes and wings and, oh, your claws, so perfect, so dangerous, so evil" looking at him with shining, glazed eyes and sighing deeply. He grinned at the compliment, he did like it when she called him evil.

He decided it was a good idea to hold and stroke her for a bit as she seemed to still be trembling and her movements were slightly uncoordinated. As soon as his arms were round her she grabbed onto him, holding tightly, as if the contact was necessary to ground her.

Once she’d calmed down a little she said “I like being yours, crawling for you, feels good”. Hastur smiled happily, holding her a little closer. They stayed like that for a few moments more, before he suggested getting up for the rest of the day. Lenore wasn't convinced, but he said he'd choose clothes for her then she could tell him how to cook something. 

"You can tell me what to do, I like telling people what to do, always cheers me up". She agreed to the clothes, but said she couldn't cope with telling him what to do. "My brain isn't working well enough at the moment, wait 'til I'm feeling better".

He felt getting her up out of bed was a bit of a victory so didn't insist. Picking through her wardrobe he wondered at how many clothes she had. He wanted her in stockings, they were good. Sorting through he found a floaty looking petticoat with pretty lacy bits and paired it with an under-bust corset and a lace and chiffon top.

She complained the entire outfit was see through. That was exactly what he'd liked about it, but he found her some more bits to put on underneath to make it less obscene.

She couldn't be bothered to argue further so dressed for him, asking him to help with the corset lacing "and don't tie me up this time". Handing over control to him was such a relief, even the thought of having to chose what clothes to wear was tiring.

He wasn’t showing any sign of trying to leave. In fact he seemed to be having fun with her even if he couldn’t make her scream. Even seemed to be enjoying dressing her up, smiling at her as he admired how she looked in the things he'd picked out.

She felt a warm glow, then shivered slightly at the cold, pointing out the need for a top with sleeves or she'd freeze. He looked through the wardrobe again and found a short satin dressing gown.

"Feels nice, slippery". Following up with an instruction "don't do it up, want to see your tits". She smiled and did as he asked. "Pretty pet" he said and took her hand leading her downstairs to the library.

Charu was working away in the library as usual. Xaphan was with him, they bowed to Hastur, or possibly Hastur and Lenore, then went back to work. He sat her down near the fire offering to get her a drink. "Not meant to be drinking booze with the little bastard in me" she said bitterly.

"You can't call the Antichrist a bastard" he objected.

With a loud sigh she explained “it’s factual demon: the parents are not married so it’s a bastard”. He had to concede the point but wasn't happy. He got himself a drink and she kissed him afterwards saying he tasted of brandy and that would have to do.

Hastur recalled his pet hadn’t eaten today and was concerned because humans needed lots of food, so said he'd make sandwiches. She insisted she wasn't hungry and certainly didn't want sandwiches. He was at a bit of a loss, until Charu piped up "I can cook that thing you showed me, it's ok, not sandwiches, but quite nice".

Hastur looked at him suspiciously, but Lenore said it was a good idea. "vegetable rice with grilled chicken, can't go wrong". She went to follow them to the kitchen but Hastur insisted she should stay in the library. He seemed to think she'd be cold - probably because she'd mentioned it earlier - and told her to stay near the fire.

Lenore stared into the fire not moving, not really thinking either, and only realised she had started crying again when Xaphan came over and asked "you ok?" She resisted the urge to scream at her that of course she wasn't ok and just shook her head.

Xaphan hopped from one foot to the other not knowing what to do. Then said "don't tell anyone, but it's not fair what they done to you. You helped save us from the coup an' now we done this to you. It isn't right. I dunno why you haven't discorporated all of us". The little red demon looked worried, took Lenore's hand briefly, giving it a squeeze, and ran back to the table.

Lenore was surprised at Xaphan’s words and looked up at her, only to see she was hunched up over a file obviously trying to avoid eye contact. She didn't know what to say but did feel a little better.

When she thought about it the pit demons had all been so kind to her, so understanding of her humans ways. Charu doing her hair, learning about cookery and washing up, Xaphan helping with the fire, Kevin keeping the port and brandy decanters full for her and Hastur doing so much, being so supportive. They really had been very accommodating and kind.

She found herself thinking "this isn’t their fault, they were only trying to help" then was shocked at herself for thinking like a demon. She still felt affectionate towards them. Maybe going down to Hell to visit them all would be nice. She didn’t want them to think she’d forgotten about them after all they’d done and Hastur would probably enjoy it too.

Dinner was announced with panache on Hastur's part. He said he'd got some orange juice for her too: 'with no alcohol in it'. She let herself be led to the dining room. Charu looked nervous but the food was good and she felt hungry as soon as she smelled it.

She finished it and had a second plate of rice, thanking Charu, much to his discomfort. She nearly apologised for thanking him, but realised just in time that this would make it worse so just smiled instead.

After food she took Hastur by surprise by suggesting they visit the pits. "Be nice to see some other demons, you'll enjoy it and it might make me feel better”. Seeing the look on his face she added “as long as you don't introduce me as the Antichrist's mum again".

Hastur was delighted at the thought of getting back down to the pits, but unsure why she wanted to go. It wasn’t really a human-friendly place to his mind. "I like it, I think it's the best place in Hell" she said truthfully. Hastur preened himself repeating to himself 'best place in Hell'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously inflicting real pain of the Hellish torments variety during pregnancy is out, but I did want to look at how a sexual relationship heavily into BDSM can continue through pregnancy.
> 
> This chapter was to give them a chance to explore a bit more around the mental side without the need for lots of physical pain. There has always been that power exchange but this felt like a slightly different direction. I think it is appropriate given the circumstances. Hope it works in context.


	42. Fairness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down to the pits and some revelations for Hastur about childbirth.
> 
> Lenore gets some education on torments and finally gets angry about things, losing her temper a couple of times; with differing results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really about how the characters and relationships are evolving now - although clearly there is the embryonic Antichrist to be factored in. I want to explore how each is having an influence on the other and how the interactions change or don’t change their outlooks…..
> 
> I’m waffling a bit here so I’ll stop and let you judge for yourself….

Lenore and Hastur arrived in the upper halls, Hastur again complaining about not getting a signal in the pits. She noticed with mounting irritation the groups of whispering, pointing demons saying loudly to Hastur "going to discorporate the next bastard who points at me" and glowing with a faint hint of hell-fire.

The demons stopped pointing, but carried on whispering and looking. As they got nearer the pits she breathed a sigh of relief. It was warm and dark, with the familiar, faint background noise of screaming and machinery.

The demons there were busy with their own work and waved at them in a friendly way, but otherwise left them alone. It was so much nicer than the upper halls she thought. Hastur was watching her and seemed satisfied with her reaction.

They headed straight to the club room encountering a few demons on the way. A many tentacled creature, with big watery eyes, bowed low at their approach, mumbling something about it being an honour for ‘the Antichrist’s mum’ to visit them in the pits. She noted with irritation that Hastur’s new title for her seemed to have stuck. She wasn’t sure whether she’d rather be known as that or ’Hastur’s pet’. The title ‘P.A.’ had apparently never taken off.

Hastur said huffily that she was pit club so belonged down here and said she hated the upper halls. The other demon looked suspicious, not quite believing Hastur, but too wary of the other demon’s reaction to say anything out loud.

As it happened she’d looped a ribbon through the hole in her ‘pit club’ token and had been wearing it as a necklace. It made her proud to have the opportunity to flash it at the demon, saying earnestly "the pits is the best place in Hell". The tentacled creature smiled widely and bowed again, this time slyly taking her hand in one of its tentacles and licking her palm in an affectionate way.

The club room was nearly deserted, the little pink and white demon was there and a few others she didn’t really recognise. One was crying. She looked like an emaciated goth, dressed in black with pale skin and doleful eyes. Tracks of blood coloured tears running down her face.

She sat next to Lenore and offered her a clean, black-bordered handkerchief saying “looks like you need one almost as much as me”. Lenore was aware she’d been crying a lot lately, but didn’t realise it was so obvious.

The demon’s gesture made her cry again, which in turn made the demon’s crying worse. They hugged each other crying and shaking: a perfect picture of misery.

Hastur shook his head “Achlys, I’d just got her to stop bloody crying”. Achlys said “sometimes you have to cry, you can't always control it. Being sad is just something that happens”, but she did try to stop the worst of her tears.

Lenore was oddly cheered by her words. She had spent years being told she cried too much and needed to pull herself together, someone saying it was ok was such a relief, even if it was a demon. Hastur looked helplessly from one to the other, but then just shrugged and sat down without complaining further.

The other demons were curious about the pregnancy and seemed confused that it had been weeks now but they couldn’t see anything. Lenore explained that it took nine months, which shocked them. The pinky white demon offered her a drink to commiserate, which she had to decline. Seeing the demon’s hurt expression at refusal of her hospitality Lenore explained she couldn’t have alcohol while pregnant.

The demons were horrified at the idea of not being able to drink for months, one saying “dunno how I’d cope being in Hell with no booze”. That started her off crying again, but their sympathy again made her feel better. At least they understood it was ok for her to be upset, even if for them it was mainly about enforced sobriety.

Hastur said he thought it would be a good idea to have a look round, maybe see if there were any trials going on. He was still working on the premise that if he kept her distracted she might forget to be upset.

Sitting with other demons watching her cry about being sober was a bit too close to home for him too. He hadn’t been drunk for ages and was starting to crave the dulling effects of strong alcohol quite badly. Being in the pits club room, where he’d spent over a thousand years getting drunk, just intensified the feeling. A confused anger was building up inside him. It wasn’t fair.

Best to leave before the cravings get too bad. Do something to distract himself rather than setting fire to anything. He signalled to Lenore that they should leave and they walked down the corridors past the torments rooms. This time Lenore was curious so took a look in one of the rooms.

Hastur was surprised. He knew she’d been typing up the pits questioning so must be aware what the processes entailed. There was also that time she’d seen him extracting his vengeance in the pits, but then it had seemed to upset her. Now all he got from her was curiosity. Not that he was complaining, he was happy she was taking an interest. Better than all that crying.

Inside the room not much seemed to be happening. A bored looking demon with a clipboard was sat in front of a wall where a manacled demon hung from his wrists. Below him was a stool, that would take his weight if only it was moved under his feet.

The demon with the clipboard looked up as the window opened and saw Hastur and Lenore. “Not much doing, bugger keeps passing out” she explained in a bored voice. They moved on.

Lenore said it didn’t seem too bad, but Hastur said it was a nasty one. The pressure on the demon’s hands and wrists would make them swell, sometimes so much that the manacles couldn't be undone as his flesh would puff up over the catch.

His chest, arms and shoulders would burn so badly he'd eventually pass out from the pain. The presiding demon would then revive him by giving him the stool to stand on, only to kick it away again as soon as he regained conciousness.

It would feel like his fingers were pouring blood and, after a while, he wouldn't even be able to breathe without it hurting. He’d hardly be able to speak in fact. The swelling wouldn’t go down for days. He wouldn’t be able use his hands properly for even longer and the pain could go on for weeks afterwards.

Hastur grimaced slightly as he explained, it didn’t look like he was taking much pleasure in explaining this torment, which was unusual for him. She decided not to ask about his reaction or how he knew in such detail what it was like, guessing the answer for herself. Instead she asked about the hexes that were meant to stop unconsciousness.

Hastur hastened to explain that the torment worked better with them turned off. Something about the stop-start nature of the pain made it more effective. Keeping them conscious for too long just made them retreat into madness: didn't get the answers and it wasn't even 'fun'.

Apparently it had taken a bit of experimentation to work this out. 

Hastur went on to explain that was a ‘passive torment’ i.e. not much for the presiding demon to do. In Hastur's words 'boring', but usually effective nonetheless. He said he preferred the more active ones as he enjoyed interacting with his victims. He grinned at this and she found his smile disturbing, but also strangely attractive.

“We’re only after confirmation of his bloody prelim statement, dunno why he’s being so stubborn. Shoulda just accepted the verdict if he didn’t want it to go to questioning”. She shivered at the thought of it, and also wondered what was so bad the demon would rather endure this than either accept the verdict or confirm his statement.

The trial rooms were closed for the day and Lenore looked round curiously. There were benches along three sides of the room, for the accused, accuser and judges. In the centre was a small table with a couple of quills and an ink pot, but also a machine that looked suspiciously like a stenotype.

Hastur confirmed it was a typing machine and that the quills were there for show these days. He admitted the humans had come up with a useful idea there, and it had saved them quite a bit of time. On their way out he bowed low as a demon with strange gold and black robes approached. The demon took no notice, gliding past them.

Lenore noticed he had a black bandanna across his eyes, with only little slits to see through. This was apparently because the demon was a judge and they were meant to be unbiased. Not being able to see who they were trying meant they couldn’t favour their friends, which was important given the demonic network of alliances and favours owed or given.

She pointed out there were slits so he could see, but apparently this was a practicality. “Can’t have the buggers wandering round bumping into stuff” Hastur explained. “Doesn’t that defeat the object of the blindfold though?” He said he’d never really thought about it, but reckoned they’d know their friends voices anyway so it didn’t really matter.

Lenore suddenly turned to Hastur saying “I’m going to need a room down here for the birth, you know that don’t you?” Apparently he’d not considered this. “Why would you need a special room, what’s wrong with the library?”

She sighed and asked if he’d ever seen a human giving birth. He hadn’t. She described it using her hands to show the size of a baby’s head compared to the size of the cervix and said if it ran to the usual form then there would be hours of screaming agony.

Hastur was horrified, wanting to know where exactly it came out. She said “the way it got in usually sweetheart”. He was confused so she was more explicit and he was again horrified “you can’t get a huge thing like that out there, there won’t be room, it’ll damage you”.

She smiled her tight sarcastic smile snorting at him and saying “yeah it will. It’s basically torments and I don’t even want the bloody kid”. It was typical of the demon not to have even considered the practical aspect. What did he think was going to happen? Then she remembered he really didn’t know much about humans and probably hadn’t ever had cause to even think about it before.

Hastur had started looking really worried and said “there’s got to be another way”. She informed him calmly that the alternative was to cut a big hole in her stomach and pull it out that way, but it was major surgery so quite dangerous.

He was horrified at the idea saying they couldn’t do that and again saying there had to be another way. “You’ll get killed or something, it’s awful” he said. “Yeah, childbirth killed loads of women before modern medicine, it’s still dangerous and women still die”.

The demon was all for going to Beelzebub and asking for them to grow the Antichrist somewhere else ‘in a box or something’. She laughed and said you couldn't grow a baby in a box. Besides, wasn’t the whole point that the Antichrist was ‘born human’? That meant it had to be borne and be born like a human baby, not grown in a box in Hell, even if that were possible.

He looked like he finally understood some of her reluctance. “That’s only the end of the process there’s loads of really nasty stuff can happen before the little bugger is even ready to pop out” she added maliciously.

He suggested she should be in a human hospital with ‘modern medicine’ but she reminded him that with her current demonic powers she’d probably burn the place to the ground. He was again worried and this time insisted on seeing Beelzebub.

In the upper halls the demons again started paying them attention and not in a nice way. Lenore was really not in the mood and started showering sparks with her eyes glowing a deep red. Hastur took a step away from her, then steeled himself and took her arm in his. “Come on pet, you’ll be ok, I'm gonna sort this out”. She knew it was a lost cause, but was comforted anyway.

Beelzebub’s office waiting room was quite crowded but Hastur just walked up to the door hammering on it until they shouted “piss off I’m busy”. He flung the door open dragging Lenore in behind him. “you gotta get it out of her, it’s going to kill her” he declared. 

Beelzebub rolled their eyes looking to Lenore and asking “what have you been telling him?” She replied defensively “only the truth. I just came down to the pits to chose my torments room for the birth. They’re used to the screaming down there and the hexes should stop me dying on you” treating Beelzebub to her best sarcastic smile.

Hastur shouted again about how it had to be taken out and grown somewhere else. Beelzebub scowled saying childbirth was natural. The look on the small demon’s face told him this wasn’t a battle he could win. Instead of arguing further he said sulkily “gangrene is natural, dunt make it safe”.

Lenore made eye contact with the other demon shrugging her shoulders “he’s going to have to deliver it you know. I’d probably turn any human midwife inside out soon as look at them”. 

Beelzebub sighed. “Hastur, your human will grow this child and you will deliver it. The Antichrist must be born for the great war to start. It is written. Now bugger off and stop bothering me”. He looked like he would argue but Lenore pulled him out of the room.

The small demon sat thoughtfully. This was an aspect that had been worrying them. Having read the twelve year plan it had included detailed information about the insemination, which Satan was very keen on. A bit about how Hastur would guard the human and details about how the Antichrist would be bought up, but nothing about the birth.

It was understandable that Satan and Armageddon Planning didn’t understand the mechanics of either pregnancy or childbirth, but Beelzebub did wish they’d stop landing these problems on their desk. It sounded like the human had just solved it though. Hastur would deliver the child.

It was better than their previous plan. That had involved cutting the child out, which would probably have killed the human, but leaving her to birth it alone ran the risk of damaging the Antichrist. It would be a nuisance for the human to be killed, just when she’d proved to be so useful.

The idea had annoyed Beelzebub on another level too, as it would mean the human had found a way out of her contract with Hell. Heaven’s ill-advised pre-emptive claim would have sent her upstairs if she’d died. Also her death would mean heaven would find out about the Antichrist. Not what Beelzebub wanted. This was a much better plan.

Outside in the waiting room Lenore saw ‘Eric’, the demon who’d tried to intimidate her the first time she’d been here. He glared at her, looking her up and down. After noting she wasn't carrying her knife he visibly relaxed, rolling his eyes and snorting in mock disgust.

The clothes chosen by Hastur were a bit weird she supposed, but his obvious overreaction was unwelcome. He compounded it by looking round at the other demons in the waiting room and sniggering into his hand before looking her up and down again. A faint sneer showed on his face and he glared at her challengingly, as if daring her to say something.

Lenore was angry and upset and all of a sudden felt an overwhelming urge to hurt something. Taking him by the scruff of the neck she threw him across the room with unnatural strength. Flinging her hands round in a dramatic manner she blasted him with hell-fire until he had completely disappeared into a smouldering pile of ash.

Taking a deep breath she said “next one of you buggers even so much as looks at me and I’ll do ten times worse”.

She stomped out of the waiting room, Hastur chasing in her wake. “Beelzebub ain't gonna be happy you discorporated Eric” he said anxiously. “Beelzebub can bloody well piss off” she said in a temper and Hastur cringed.

After a few paces she calmed down sufficiently to take his arm and say “best go back up. It was nice to get out but I’m clearly a bit over-emotional”. He nodded silently, walking her along to a bit of corridor undifferentiated from the others and taking hold of her hand.

If setting fire to demons was her definition of over-emotional he didn’t want to encourage it. Although he had enjoyed the shocked look on Eric’s face as she’d thrown him across the room. His little pet really was doing well establishing herself in Hell, Eric would be terrified of her now. It made him proud to think about it.

The revelation about the birth was still making him jittery though. He didn’t want her damaged or killed, but the Antichrist had to be born somehow. She’d said ‘hours of screaming agony’. Normally this would be something he’d look forward to, but for once in his existence he’d rather not see someone in pain. He felt conflicted, which wasn’t pleasant.

They popped up in the library and found Charu, Kevin, Xaphan and Ligur all talking together. Hastur looked profoundly unhappy, but Lenore seemed to have cheered up.

“How were the pits?” Charu asked. Unexpectedly Lenore answered. “Fun actually. I’ll have to go again soon. Need to find a torments room for the birth”. All the demons looked confused and Hastur wailed out an explanation including a demonstration of the size issue and, by pointing at Lenore, where the problem would occur.

Surprisingly she laughed at their horrified faces asking “what did you expect?” None of them knew, they’d seen women fat with child, and they’d seen the children after they’d been born, but never considered the process in between.

“I’d get drunk” said Ligur. Lenore explained you couldn’t drink while pregnant and the demons looked even more upset. Inevitably one of them said “it’s not fair”.

Lenore laughed again, this time bordering on hysterical. Taking a deep breath and shouting out “of course it’s not bloody fair, nothing is fair in Hell. If you think Armageddon will make it fair you're deluded. Six thousand years and you couldn't make Hell fair what makes you think destroying the earth will help? Nothing will ever be fair: deal with it”. She stormed out and upstairs, leaving them stunned.

A short while later there was a knock on the door. She expected Hastur, but found Ligur. He said crossly, as if the words were being forced out of him: “Hastur’s really upset. He needs you” spitting out the last word. He turned and left. She pondered for a minute. Hastur was upset!

Lenore felt a wave of rage pass over her, she was the one who was upset. He didn’t get to be upset. He didn’t deserve it. It was his fault, all of this was his fault. Maybe Satan had been the one to hurt her, but she couldn’t get at him and someone should suffer for what happened. It might as well be Hastur. It was all his fault. She’d only been trying to help and look what happened. It wasn’t fair.

She stopped, realising she sounded just like a demon. No good ranting that things would never be fair so 'deal with it', only to whine about how unfair it was five minutes later. This wasn’t a game with rules and an umpire to appeal to, she couldn’t win ‘fairness’ by fighting something external. That’s what the demons were trying to do and she’d just told them it wouldn’t work hadn’t she?

Taking a deep breath she considered again. It wasn’t all Hastur’s fault. She'd been too stupid to realise that Hell would always take advantage of anyone who had dealings with them. She should have paid more attention. It was Hell after all and he was a demon.

Yes: he was a demon and she’d accepted him on those terms. She’d accepted Hastur wouldn’t, or couldn’t, fight Satan at the time of the ‘insemination’ as the demons insisted on calling it. Why the euphemism? They didn’t usually shy away from nasty realities. Anyway, having once accepted Hastur’s behaviour why suddenly get angry about it now?

The visit to Hell seemed to have put her out of sorts. It had made her angry so she had overreacted. Maybe something about the place itself just got to you. Actually, it was just the upper halls, she really did like the pits. Surely that was the wrong way round? The pits were meant to be the worst place in Hell, but they felt like the best.

It was the pit demons themselves that made it she thought. As soon as Hastur had inducted her to the club, introduced her to them and vouched for her, it felt like she’d joined a family. They seemed unconcerned about their own power and position, just wanted to get the job done and have fun together. They were quite sweet really and very friendly.

Well, apart from the torturing. Even Charu and little Xaphan did torments, took pride in them in fact. From reading the reports she knew the pit demons sometimes went further than just having pride in their work. They actually enjoyed themselves too.

There was an element of revenge in their enjoyment. She corrected herself: an element of ‘vengeance’. According to the reports the demons of the upper halls were pretty horrible to the pit demons and they all had a grudge against ‘Her bloody humans’. Although they had always been kind to her God’s promised forgiveness of humanity while eternally banishing the unforgivable demons always bought out the plaintive cry of ‘it’s not fair’.

They felt it was only right they should get their own back, which was the root of the problem really. They’d been so focused on vengeance that Hell was in a terrible state and didn’t look like it would ever improve. If the demons had spent more time having fun and fixing Hell maybe it wouldn’t be so Hellish. Perhaps Nergal had had a point when he’d referred to ‘time wasted on petty revenge plots’.

Mind you, if the Nergalists and Loyalty and Justice had won she didn’t think it would have improved anything. Quite the opposite. Their unofficial torments were beyond that of the pit demons’ strictly proscribed procedures (even if they did enjoy inflicting them). With the use of holy stuff they’d gone beyond the limits of even Hastur and his obsession with hurting things.

Suddenly she remembered what this was about: Hastur. No time for thinking, she needed to make it up to him. He really had been so very kind to her and all he wanted was fairness. It wasn’t an unreasonable demand, even if she didn’t think it was possible. She sighed and went back downstairs in a much calmer frame of mind.

Hastur looked like he was about to cry, or possibly catch fire, definitely one or the other. He was sat, head in hands, muttering about things not being fair, a faint glow of hell-fire around his head and shoulders.

Lenore came up to him and he looked up at her “are you going to discorporate me?” he asked in a small voice. She shook her head “told you I wasn’t sweetheart, it’s not your fault”.

He blinked at her owlishly. Surprisingly his next question was: “are you ok now?” She very nearly shouted, but controlled herself at the last second. “I’m not going to be ok any time soon, but there’s nothing that can be done about it. I'm sorry I took it out on you. It's never going to be fair, I just need to deal with that”.

The other demons looked like they were going to object so she said “if any one of you says things will be fair after Armageddon then I might change my mind about discorporating you". They looked sheepish and didn’t say anything further.

She smiled at them then, offering a ‘sorry’ for her outburst, which just seemed to confuse them. She was very tired again so said she was going to bed, surprising Hastur by taking his hand and leading him upstairs with her.

Ligur looked after them as they headed up. He had been annoyed at the way she’d upset Hastur, it wasn't his fault, he was only trying to help. Armageddon was Hastur’s prevailing obsession, had been since the fall and he was convinced it would make things fair. This human had no right to try and make him doubt that.

Ligur himself wasn’t too sure that Armageddon would make things fair, but he’d never upset Hastur by saying that. He was glad that she’d seen sense and come back downstairs. He was also pleased that she hadn’t discorporated anyone yet (he didn’t know about Eric, but Eric was, essentially, ‘disposable’).

He was missing Hastur and didn’t like the thought of him spending all his time with a human, he didn’t like humans. He knew that Armageddon was important to Hastur and he’d been tasked with guarding her so didn’t get a choice in it. He wasn't avoiding him deliberately. He still didn't like it.

Ligur comforted himself with the thought that the human would start behaving more like a demon now she had demonic powers, couldn’t help it. Hanging out down in Hell would help with that too. She might even start to take an interest in the torments. She’d been doing a good job of the files before the insemination. Soon have her trained up if she took an interest.

He felt a bit better. Another demon looking after Hastur would be useful and, even if she was only a little bit demon, she wasn’t entirely human anymore either. He had enjoyed the last threesome too, so maybe after Armageddon they could do a bit more of that.

Assuming Hell won of course. He sighed, deciding there was no point worrying about Armageddon. As long as Hastur was ok now, that's what mattered.

Hastur came down after a while telling Ligur that ‘Lenore’ was asleep. Ligur scowled at the use of her name, but cheered up when Hastur told him she’d been learning about torments down in the pits.

He was even happier to hear about what she’d done to Eric. It was a nuisance they’d have to get him a new corporation. It would come out of their quarterly budget, but it was a definitely demonic thing to do, so that was good.

They went to sit in the drawing-room away from the demons working in the library so they could talk together. Ligur found the soft sofas uncomfortable and the bright lights and abundance of clean things disconcerting. Hastur was jittery about leaving ‘Lenore’ alone for too long, which he found irritating too. Not wanting a row he want back down to Hell after only a short time. 

Hastur looked a bit disappointed, but that was his own fault for not agreeing to just lock her up in the pits like any sensible demon would have done. She was a pit club member and not quite human anymore, oddly she seemed to like the pit demons too, so he didn’t see why she wouldn’t be happy just to stay down there. Spending more time in Hell would help cultivate her demonic side too.

Hastur was strange sometimes. All this insistence on her being able to use her ‘word’ and wanting him to do things, it still didn’t really make sense to Ligur. Although he didn’t really understand why she hadn’t tried to discorporate Hastur either. Weird human. Weird Hastur. They deserved each other, he thought huffily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a bit more action over the next couple of chapters - relating to ‘work’ rather than anything else. They’ve been taking a bit of a break from it over the last few weeks and I don’t see Hell offering much in the way of maternity leave.
> 
> FYI the description of the effects of the hanging 'torment' are taken from the Jesuit priest John Gerard's account of being tortured in the Tower of London c.1597


	43. Part of the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore might like having Hastur around all the time, but demons aren’t used to sitting about in a nice house with nothing evil to do. He’s getting bored. She suggests they go on another outing to cheer him up - although perhaps it doesn’t end like she envisaged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follows directly from the last chapter and they’re still adjusting to the changes - I’ve been throwing in a few ideas from each showing what they think about the others and there’s more of this here - but the chapter is a bit more action focused.

The next morning was sunny and cold with frost on the ground. Lenore felt a lot better than of late and decided to walk Baku.

The nightmare hound looked almost fully grown, the size of a large Alsatian with jet-black shaggy fur and a hint of red about his eyes, even when they weren’t glowing. Calling his name he bounded up to her, trying to weave between her legs and almost sending her flying.

Hastur, of course, had to accompany them on the walk. They went to Hampstead Heath again. Crunching the frosted blades of grass underfoot she smashed the ice in a muddy puddle with her heel pretending it was Satan. She realised how weird that was and laughed. Hastur was just glad Lenore seemed more cheerful today, even if she was laughing at puddles.

They walked for about half an hour finding a stick to throw for Baku, she waved it in front of his face saying “soul in torment Baku, look at the tormented soul, go on Baku chase the lost soul” and throwing the stick. The hell-hound bounded happily after it bringing it back for another go.

The demon was enjoying himself. His pet seemed much happier and he’d enjoyed the trip down to Hell. Beelzebub hadn’t immediately contacted him about Eric so he was assuming that was ok - either that or Ligur had sorted it. It wasn’t like Eric didn’t get discorporated regularly anyway.

Ligur had irritated him by running off back to Hell, but he’d be back. In six thousand years he’d never had a real falling out with Ligur. It was probably just the human stuff that was putting him off. He’d never really liked earth. Hastur hadn’t really liked it himself until recently but he was starting to see the attraction.

The pit demons all liked Lenore’s house too: lots of posh booze and loads of room for them to work. They’d got used to Lenore feeding them and quite liked that she put so much care and attention into providing them with food they didn’t need.

Coffee was getting to be a bit of a hit too, with brandy of course. After Lenore had taken to her bed for a week he’d actually received a formal request for permission to steal a coffee machine for the club room they were missing it so much.

When they got back Lenore made breakfast for all the demons, taking trays of eggs, bacon and sausage up to the dining room. The pit demons all ate happily and seeing how pleased they were with the food it was as if a weight had lifted from her. If she could make demons happy then she clearly wasn’t useless. She decided the world wasn’t so bad after all.

The next couple of weeks passed in much the same way, frosty walks on the heath, cooked meals in the dining room and sandwiches in the library. She even started taking an interest in the files again. She wasn’t feeling quite herself and still slept a lot, cried unexpectedly and worried about Hastur leaving her, but, by and large, settled down to a routine.

For her it felt nice having Hastur around all the time. He, on the other hand, was obviously getting restless. She did her best to distract him with leads and vibrating things and they tried the riding crop too - which he thoroughly enjoyed and insisted on using together with the paddle, much to her discomfort. They didn’t go back to the adult store, ordering on-line instead as he seemed worried about bumping into demons he knew.

Hastur had tried to interest Ligur, who had flat out refused to get involved in ‘these human things’, so that was that. It was a pity, as he’d have quite liked to see more of Ligur. It felt like the other demon was avoiding him, although maybe he just didn’t want to come up to earth. Even when he was there he seemed fed up, awkward and irritable.

He had been going to suggest sharing his pet again, as that might cheer Ligur up. He had seemed to like playing with her, and she had loved it. Hastur liked it when they were both happy, but just when he’d got his pet cheered up enough to suggest something Ligur was sulking down in Hell. Ah well, there would be plenty of time after Armageddon. Hastur smiled happily at the thought.

Lenore started throwing up in the mornings, which alarmed him, but she reassured him it was normal, if unpleasant. He wasn’t happy about it muttering yet again about things not being fair. She sighed, but didn’t lose her temper this time, she was getting used to it by now.

Hastur could apparently smell the child growing, licking and sniffing her to check progress. It was a bit disconcerting, but at least he confirmed everything was ok. He seemed pleased she was being less emotional and his approval made Lenore happy too.

It was, however, clear to Lenore that he was getting bored. He would sit reading files, but drift off, sighing and fidgeting. She thought he was probably missing Ligur. It was a bit annoying that the other demon seemed so reluctant to spend much time here. It wasn’t like she was particular friends with him, but he made Hastur happy so she wished he’d come up more.

Honestly she found Ligur a bit intimidating. He and Hastur were so close and he didn’t really seem to like her. She couldn’t quite get over his ‘I could do it anyway’ comment after the party either. While she knew Hastur had done some pretty awful things he seemed to value consent. Well, her consent at least.

The last threesome had been fun though, so maybe if they could do a bit more of that they might get on better. She wanted him to like her for Hastur’s sake….and he was quite attractive in his own right.

Nothing like as sexy as Hastur with his black eyes and wicked claws and the way he took control of her, made her his pet, so easily, oh and those wings….she sighed realising her thoughts had been side tracked.

Anyway, it seemed like more than just missing Ligur. He hadn’t lost his temper at any of the other demons for days, wasn’t getting stressed about work and wasn’t even gloating about Armageddon as much as he used to. He seemed listless and unmotivated. Lenore missed the random flares of anger and the evil grins as he reminisced about torments. She even missed his long rants about how unfair everything was. She was getting worried so asked what was wrong.

Thus prompted he wailed out a long list: he missed Hell, he missed torments, he missed temptations, he missed Ligur and most of all he missed getting drunk. She offered to go back down to the pits with him, have a look at some torments, even drop in on Ligur on the working floors. She didn’t mind spending more time in Hell if he wanted to, if it made him happy. He continued sighing in a dissatisfied way.

“What do you want to do then?” He replied with one word: “lurk”. She looked confused so he hastened to explain. It appeared to consist of standing round in a dark, dank graveyard or similar, for hours, and maybe killing someone or something. It didn’t sound like much fun to her, but she did know there were some nice garden cemeteries in London so offered to go with him to Abney Park for a ‘lurk’.

It was cold and drizzly with a faint mist in the air. Damp and atmospheric. The overgrown cemetery with meandering paths between untended graves had a heavy scent of wet leaves and fox musk hanging in the air. In this awful weather it was deserted.

Hastur admitted it was worth the visit. He took Lenore's hand without really thinking and wandered round enjoying the bleak, heavy atmosphere. He pushed through some bushes, dragging her behind him, coming to a standstill near a broken statue of an angel in stained white marble.

He took a big sniff closing his eyes and exhaling happily "this is the spot". He’d missed this. Something about standing among the long dead was calming to him. The stained and moss covered grave markers reminded him of humanity’s inevitable death and decay. He wondered how many of the souls whose bodies had been buried here were being tormented down in Hell. It gave him a warm glow just thinking about it.

Lenore watched as he stopped completely still and seemed to fade into the background of damp trees and brambles. She had to concentrate to still see him. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Ssshh, lurking pet, gotta make yourself sink into the background. Go on, try it". She did, slowing her breathing, letting the atmosphere of the cemetery seep into her, noticing the smells, the faint patter of drops of condescending mist as they fell from bare branches and the rustle of a small animal scavenging for food in the undergrowth.

She enjoyed the peacefulness of it. Stealing a sideways glance at Hastur she saw he was watching her intently. That broke her concentration and she grinned at him. He said "you ain't too bad, don't get distracted though, now you smell of lust".

She realised her train of thought had indeed been distracted by the sight of him just as he’d said. The fact that that distraction was definitely lustful in nature cheered her. He grumbled "you're hopeless, stop thinking about my cock and lurk".

They stood around the cemetery for a good couple of hours, she was cold, damp and shivering before he seemed to think about moving. A curious fox approached them and he reached out to it, snapping its neck in one smooth movement. This made Lenore cry.

The demon was confused saying “its only a fox, man has dominion over all beasts so it don’t matter if I kill them”. She stroked the dead fox saying “he never did anything to you, poor little thing, why don’t you kill evil people and leave poor little animals alone”.

He shrugged “sometimes I’ve just gotta kill something, I'm a demon y’know. I’d rather kill people, but you said you didn’t want to”. It sounded like something she would have said, but if it was a straight choice she’d rather see him kill people who could be said to deserve it rather than foxes who’d done nothing wrong.

He argued that the fox had killed dozens of rats and birds so was guilty, but she said human rules and laws didn’t apply to animals. He countered saying they’d tried animals in the fourteenth century, executed them too. She maintained it was wrong to just kill innocent little animals and wasn’t even evil, just pointless and unnecessary.

They were very close to a real argument, both starting to glow faintly with hell-fire and glaring at each other angrily. Lenore stopped herself, she didn’t really want to argue with him. Certainly not over something like this.

Trying to clear her head she looked objectively at the demon. There was an angry, dangerous glint in his deep black eyes, his teeth were bared threateningly and his head surrounded by the faint menacing glow of hell-fire, showing clear against the dreary backdrop of the atmospheric, decaying graveyard.

It was quite a turn on. All he needed now was his wings or claws out and she felt she would melt. He really was attractive and so very, very sexy. Sighing happily she gave up arguing and suggested they find a pub to warm up.

There were several decent pubs in the area and they found one doing a good range of things on draft. Then she remembered she couldn’t drink alcohol and had to settle for a tomato juice scowling at it as if it was the tomatoes’ fault.

Hastur had beer, something from a local brewery that looked rich and dark and infinitely preferable to tomato juice. He had the inevitable chaser, this time gin, which smelt strong and slightly unpleasant to her. It was odd as she'd always liked gin before - something to do with pregnancy she supposed.

Lenore went back to their earlier conversation and asked why he had to kill things. Apparently it was ‘a demon thing’ and he’d been getting fed up of sitting around being ‘bloody nice’ all the time. “Demons aren’t nice” he said looking belligerent, as if she was going to argue the point.

Actually she did think demons could be nice….well, sometimes. When they weren’t thinking about it anyway, but she didn’t want to start another argument. “Maybe you should find someone who needs to be killed, like my late husband: someone who has broken their contract”. Hastur was uncertain saying he’d have to take her with him and looking doubtful.

Shrugging she said "if it’ll make you feel better and its going to be done anyway you might as well go. I’ll ‘lurk’ quietly in the background". He cheered up considerably and insisted on leaving after one drink to go back and consult the files to find a likely candidate.

Hastur was pleased. He’d needed to get this out of his system for a while. With no alcohol, no torments and no temptations he felt his demon side was being neglected. Looking after a pregnant human wasn’t very demonic.

Not that he was complaining. Worryingly he was actually enjoying it a lot of the time, but he was feeling the need to hurt or kill things quite badly now. It was in his nature he supposed, he was evil after all. Sitting around in a nice house while other demons did all the fun stuff was getting very dull.

He located a candidate in London not too far away, but insisted they wait until the early hours of the morning. She refused to get night buses, which confused him. “Just go down to Hell and back up again” he said mystified. “Don’t need to bother with all that human transport”. This was something she’d not considered before, it made sense of course and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself.

She was starting to have second thoughts about the outing and had managed to fall asleep in the chair, hoping he’d forget about it. He shook her awake and told her it was time. The trip through Hell was mercifully quick - they didn't have to traipse around the upper halls, just straight down and up again.

They arrived at a run-down looking estate. The tower blocks had washing out on the balconies and a sprinkling of broken car-window glass adorned the pavements. Some piles of abandoned rubbish bags and an old mattress were pushed up against the side of the flats, together with a collection of used needles. An unattended car alarm wailed in the distance and from somewhere behind the block she heard voices raised in a heated argument. It must be south of the river she decided.

It was freezing cold with an overcast sky, the light from the street lamps bouncing off the clouds making the world glow slightly orange. She’d noticed since getting pregnant, or maybe since getting demon powers, that the darkness wasn’t as dark as it used to be.

They came to stop outside a newer block. The facings on the outside were dark stained with some sort of mildew, a couple of windows had cracked glass and a dead rat huddled in the doorway. Hastur pushed the door open and the smell of old bins and clogged drains assaulted her senses. The lift was broken so they walked up five floors.

She expressed surprise that someone who’d sold their soul would be found here. Hastur shrugged saying “he bought the whole block, it’s all rental now, makes a fortune, sky high rents and no maintenance”. This made her feel a bit better, slum landlords deserved to be tormented in Hell. She was still confused though “why would he live here himself?” she asked.

Hastur hastened to explain “s’not living here, he’s shagging the lass in 53 cuz she hasn’t got any money. He told her she’d be evicted if she didn’t pay ‘im and offered money for food too if she did it. That’s how he’s broke his contract see. I told ‘im: nothing illegal, use whatever loopholes you want, but nothing illegal. Now he’s forcing her into prostitution an’ that’s against the law. Clever see?” Hastur looked pleased with himself over this.

It sounded like the man deserved everything he was going to get. Good riddance to the bastard. Maybe this demon stuff wasn’t so bad after all. Hastur seemed to have a weirdly moral approach to buying souls, if you looked at it in a generous enough light.

She watched as Hastur waved a hand at the door to 53 which clicked open. They could hear noises from the bedroom and he signalled her to wait outside the door while he went in. She heard Hastur calling softly “I know you're in there” before kicking the door open.

Something went wrong as the next moment she saw a short, balding bloke with no trousers making a bolt for the front-door. Without really thinking about it she stuck a foot out so he went flying as soon as he reached the threshold.

The man skidded across the hallway banging his head painfully on the wall. As he made eye contact with her, a disbelieving look on his round chubby face, Hastur reached a hand down and pulled the guy up by his throat. “I think its time we had a little chat” he growled.

Hastur carried the struggling figure to the stairwell, lifting him bodily over the railings above the five floor drop. Shushing the man's attempt to speak he held him with one hand while fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette with the other.

“Now then, you’d better stop struggling or I might drop you” he said, using a deceptively reasonable tone of voice. The man stopped struggling his eyes bulging and hands clutching at Hastur’s hand round his neck trying to stop himself being strangled and hold himself up at the same time.

Hastur paused, holding him steady and looking directly into the frightened man’s little piggy eyes. A dangerous smile appeared on the demon’s face, he was clearly enjoying the other’s terror.

“Then again, I might just drop you anyway” he said, shrugging and letting his grip loosen. “Oops” he said as the man fell, fruitlessly clawing at the air on the way down.

As Hastur lit his cigarette she heard the sickening thud of a body hitting concrete. He signalled to her to follow and they went back down the stairs. Hastur kicked the corpse a couple of times, just to make sure the man was definitely dead.

He then stood at a distance from her, rapidly sucking in smoke, watching as a barely visible ghostly outline rose from the corpse. Lenore was fascinated, she’d never seen a soul leave a body before. It must be her demonic powers that let her see it this time.

The ghost of the man still seemed scared of Hastur and tried to swim through the air away from him. Hastur blew smoke in his direction laughing. The frightened soul started sinking down to Hell, his terrified eyes the last thing Lenore saw as he disappeared.

They followed him down, arriving just as a demon with a large net scooped him up. The soul watched them from the net as the demon walked off with his captive. Hastur pointed at the forlorn ghost, growling in a threatening tone “I’ll be seeing you later”. He turned to Lenore grinning happily and taking her hand before they resurfaced in the library.

“That was a neat trick of yours. Helpful. I didn’t fancy chasing the bugger all the way down them stairs” he said, sounding begrudgingly grateful. Lenore was conflicted, the guy was a creep and deserved something nasty. She supposed one demon or another would have taken him out either way. However, at the end of the day, she’d just helped Hastur kill a man and didn’t feel too good about it.

She tried to explain how she was feeling, but Hastur just shrugged “part of the job pet, you knew that when you signed up, dunno why you’re surprised”.

She supposed he was right, its just that she wasn’t expecting to be at the sharp-end of it. The shocked look on the little man’s chubby pink face would probably have appeared in her nightmares. If it wasn’t for the nightmare hound eating the bad dreams before they got to her.

She was concerned that all of this was becoming worryingly normal to her. She had barely flinched at the torments room last time and now here she was helping to kill people. As Hastur had said: it shouldn’t have been a surprise. It was all there in the files. He’d actually been quite restrained compared to some of the ‘soul collections’ she’d read.

It was disturbing to her that she didn’t really feel that upset by it. She’d been more upset at the death of the fox. From a demon’s point of view it was fair of course. The man had sold his soul and breached his contract so he deserved to get killed. From a human point of view he was a nasty bit of work and the world would probably be a better place without him. Did that make it right though? She wasn’t sure any more.

When Ligur saw the file he nodded approvingly. He’d been talking to the pit demons about the arrangements up on earth and had started to worry about Hastur. Although not enough to make him want to spend more time there. He wasn’t going to give in that easily. Hastur had insisted he wanted to look after her on his own so he wasn’t going to offer to help again. Leave him to it, that’d teach him.

The not-quite-human didn’t understand about demons and their needs though. She seemed to think she could keep one cooped up in the library like a pet cat. It was more like inviting a wild tiger to tea and expecting him to roll over to have his belly tickled.

Hastur was a proper demon: cruel and dangerous and it irritated Ligur that the not-quite-human didn’t seem to appreciate that like he did. She almost seemed to think he was safe, which was weird considering what had happened to her as a result of Hastur’s actions.

Apparently she’d suggested he take her on the soul collection though, and she’d done a bit more than lurk quietly in the background too. Maybe she was starting to appreciate what being a demon meant after all. It was progress anyway. Perhaps he should come up to earth, try and persuade Hastur to take her out again.

The more exposure the not-quite-human got to real demon stuff the less likely she would revert to being all pathetic and emotional. He wanted an ally to help him look after Hastur, not a weak little human crying in bed for days because she thought he’d leave her. You’d never catch him going all soft like that, even it is was about Hastur. He did miss him though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing up one of Hastur’s ‘evil deeds’ - he was starting to come across as a bit too ‘nice' to my mind. I wanted a reminder that he is a demon. Also a reminder that Hastur has a point when he says people are evil…
> 
> The man had signed a deal with Hell and breached the contract knowing he’d get killed for it, but does that make it ok for Hastur to enjoy killing him, and should the fact he wasn’t a very nice person make a difference to how Lenore feels about it….?
> 
> Hope no-one is offended by the ‘south of the river’ comment btw… Just a bit of traditional London snobbery thrown in for amusement, no offence intended! ;)


	44. Lurking and Temptations - aka Being Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More outings in this one - Hastur tests his control over his pet, with the excuse of a bit of ‘hands-on’ teaching, and they pop up to north London for a quick temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter grew quite a lot in the writing and I’m still wondering if I should have split it in two. I’m not used to writing things as long as this and usually stick to individual scenes. This is my first novel-length piece and it’s been a bit of a roller-coaster. Still trying to re-write as I go and it’s only posting the chapters that stops me from obsessing about them….so I will see this through to the end - thank you if you’ve stuck with it :)

The next time they went out was actually for another lurk. Hastur insisted she needed to learn properly before he could take her with him for work again. After much grumbling he promised not to kill anything this time.

He was all set to go to Abney Park again, but she was determined to get around London a bit, belatedly realising she'd been cooped up in the house too long. "Let's do Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park instead", the demon shrugged, he had no idea what she meant but ‘hamlet’ sounded less like a city so that was good.

They took the tube again. Hastur had learned a new annoying trick of standing in front of the tube train doors and refusing to move to allow people on or off. Why couldn’t he just follow the rules? There was likely to be a fight if he didn't start behaving.

Lenore decided it must be his demon nature again. He just wasn’t inclined to follow someone else’s rules - whether they were from humans or God. Even if they were sensible rules designed for everyone’s benefit he just had an urge to rebel and cause trouble. She was relieved when they got to Mile End station.

The cemetery was more of a nature reserve, but Hastur appreciated the discoloured, overgrown grave markers and the damp smell of rotting leaves. He was not a city demon, well, not a modern city. Granted they fulfilled their purpose as 'dens of iniquity', vices and sin multiplied in centres of population and that was as it should be.

In his view cities had gone wrong when they'd started with underground sewers, road widening, slum clearances, letting in light and air and constructing in stone and brick instead of wattle and daub.

He'd liked the dark and filth clogged alleyways. He missed the narrow mud and dung caked cobbles winding dark narrow paths under overhanging eves. The thatched roofs, infested with rodents and insects, so gloriously flammable.

In his view a city should be lit with braziers, tallow or rush-lights, overflowing with poverty and misery, stinking with the effluence of closely packed animals and humans. A dangerous place, filled with criminals, disease, infestations and fire. Modern cities made him nervous.

The cemetery park was dank on this winter afternoon. The sun had never really managed to break through low grey clouds and the damp air was misty with an unpleasant underlying chill.

Lenore had dressed for the weather and Hastur had found a scarf from somewhere. Complaining about cold hands he surreptitiously manifested a faint glow of hell-fire to warm them up.

The only thing he missed was a cigarette. Lenore shooed him off to a discrete distance and watched his hand engulfed in flames and heard him sucking in smoke. He instructed her to concentrate on the lurking saying "if you lurk well enough maybe I'll shag you over that tomb" nodding towards a remote sarcophagus. 

The pregnancy seemed to have boosted her sex drive and his offer was enticing. She concentrated very hard, trying not go let herself get distracted.

It felt weird, like she was literally becoming part of the undergrowth, almost sinking into the ground. She watched the trees in front of her with interest. After a while she noticed she could feel the sensation of bark on her own skin.

Hearing a noise from the nearest path she looked up and saw a small dog straining on its lead. The owner followed, looking this way and that at the plants and graves, but entirely failing to see either her or Hastur.

As the dog walker disappeared off up one of the side paths she felt Hastur's hands on her. She refused to let him break her concentration. She was part of the cemetery and wasn't going to allow him to stop that.

Hastur approved. She was lurking well, not as good as he or Ligur could, but still quite high quality. He could smell her freshly washed skin with an underlying muskiness and, to his demon senses, a strong tang of lust along with it.

He felt a thrill run down him as he started working his hand up her skirt. He was confident she'd let him do whatever he wanted. He felt the need to push things, test her obedience. See if she could maintain the 'lurk' at the same time too, which he doubted, but it would be fun finding out.

She could feel his hand getting closer to the top of her thigh and her own anticipation building with it. She really wanted him inside her now and it was difficult not to think about it. She was trying her hardest to keep lurking, not wanting to be thrown out of the cemetery for lewd conduct.

Her mind wandered slightly, but only long enough to wish she'd worn stockings rather than thick warm tights. Hastur's surprised hum alerted her to the fact she was indeed now wearing stockings. Interesting. She gathered her thoughts long enough to wish away her knickers. Hastur discovered this a second later and took advantage slipping his fingers up and rubbing her gently.

This was much more difficult. He was doing things that were intensely distracting. His fingers found her clit and she suppressed a moan. Along with increased libido she seemed to be hypersensitive to his touches now. It was hard to stay calm.

Suddenly his hand was withdrawn and she whined in disappointment. "You're my pet aren't you? You'll let me do whatever I want with you won't you?" She hummed her agreement.

Hastur took her hand and led her to the sarcophagus he'd indicated earlier. Lifting her he sat her on top of it.

"You need to be good now, let me play with you". She was a little apprehensive. He couldn't hurt her could he? What was he going to do? "Stay still now pretty pet, try to keep lurking. Can you do that?"

Looking into his black eyes she felt a thrill run through her. She nodded, trying again to let herself melt into the background.

"Good pet" Hastur's softly purred praise made her happy. He was close now, very close. Reaching out he hovered a hand in front of her and she felt the buttons of her coat coming undone.

What was he doing? Without moving her body she looked down to see. "No pet, look at me" came the stern instruction. As she looked up she felt more buttons being undone and Hastur's hands reaching inside her coat and top to touch her breasts.

After teasing his thumbs round her nipples he pulled her top down completely, exposing her to the cold. Lenore shivered at the sensation.

Hastur stepped back, leaving her coat open, top down and breasts on display. She was concerned, this was a public place, what if someone came? It was as if he'd heard her concerns: "no-one will see if you lurk properly pet. Keep looking at me, concentrate".

The demon was thoroughly enjoying himself. For him this was all about control and he was clearly very much in control of her. "Lean back now". She obeyed without question. He wondered how far he could push it. How far would she let him go?

He reached for the hem of her skirt and turned it back. Lenore was near panic. She knew she'd wished away her underwear, was wearing stockings too. As he moved her skirt higher the stocking tops became visible. He tucked the material in at the waist band so she was totally exposed.

"Such a pretty pet, so good for me. Stay still, let me pose you". She felt him easing her knees apart until her legs were spread wide. Her skirt up round her waist. The position was obscene.

"Stay calm pet. You're doing really well. Try to keep lurking" his voice was hypnotic. It calmed her enough to enable her to fade her consciousness back into near invisibility.

He stood back to admire her. His pretty pet. He could sense her fear, her unwillingness to be exposed like this, but she didn't move. It felt good to have this much power.

"You're mine aren't you?" She nodded, whispering 'yes'. "Stay still for me, let me look at you". He knew she wasn't comfortable, but she'd let him do it anyway. Allowed him to pose her, made no attempt to disobey, let him stand and watch her for as long as he wanted to.

His voice was a deep growl as he instructed her again. "Tell me you're my demon slut and I can fuck you whenever I want". She whispered the words back to him, seeing the look of triumph in his eyes as she did so.

He could sense her lust, the way she revelled in being his, telling him she was available for him whenever he wanted her. His power over her and her declaration of his ownership was intensely arousing. She wanted this, had surrendered completely, allowed him to do this without hesitation.

To Lenore this was getting really scary. The lurking was difficult to maintain and she was genuinely worried someone might see her. She looked around warily, concerned the dog walker might come back.

He could feel her nervousness, tell she was getting scared, but she was trying so hard to concentrate on lurking as he’d instructed. "Look at me pet" he really wanted to look into those frightened eyes, see what he'd done, how he controlled her.

As she looked into black eyes, seeing his gloating, pleased expression, she felt a wave of lust. The lewd way he'd posed her, how he looked at her, the desire she could sense from him was almost overwhelming.

Hastur ran his eyes over the sight before him. He could feel her lust, sense her surrender to him and see her arousal. He was getting very aroused by the situation too. She was ready for him, wanted him, was sat exposed and vulnerable waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do with her. He felt she would do anything, it was giving him such a rush.

He said in an obscene whisper "your cunt is so wet for me my pretty little demon slut, are going to shout my name when you cum?" She hummed in agreement, still looking deeply into his eyes.

He got close and entered her slowly, enjoying her satisfied sigh. She was still trying to lurk, make herself invisible to anyone who came near. He felt the need to try and break her concentration. Take her to her limit.

He kept a steady pace, not too slow but not as fast nor as violent, as he usually went for. She felt waves of desire washing over her and a euphoria building as he pushed into her, over and over.

She was still trying to keep up the lurking, but it was hard with how enjoyable the sensation was. His hand touched her clit again and she gave up lurking entirely.

He picked up the pace, thrusting harder into her. He kept up a steady rhythm rubbing her clit as he fucked her. She felt her climax building as the waves of pleasure started flooding over her.

As she peaked she cried out his name and pushed herself forward onto him. He continued thrusting as she clenched down on him. Calming a little she remembered they were in a public place and began to concentrate on lurking again.

He came a second or two later as she was just fading her consciousness back into the tangled undergrowth. Not a moment too soon as the dog walker from earlier came back round the corner.

They didn't move until he was out of sight, when Hastur started laughing. "Good job you're a natural lurker or we'd have had to kill him". She was horrified "you can't just kill people like that".

The demon was confused "of course I can". Seeing her look of disapproval he added "he's shagging his sister-in-law, coveting his brother's wife is bad enough, but he's banging her after taking her home from evening class while his little daughter waits in the car outside. Straight to Hell with him and good riddance".

Lenore huffed saying he couldn't kill every sinner in London. He agreed sounding wistful.

She then considered how to make her knickers reappear, giving up and asking him. He said he had no idea what she'd done with them, advising next time she think of a specific place to remove them to.

Lenore ended up going home without underwear. At least Hastur had used a miracle to clean up the mess this time. He was looking very pleased with himself and even took her hand.

.......

Back in the library they found Ligur grumbling about work “meant to be doing all the work for the whole office on my own now, getting sick of it”. Hastur hastened to suggest that he’d take Lenore out to learn how to do a temptation. Ligur looked doubtful asking Hastur if he thought it a good idea. Hastur said “she’s my Personal Assistant, and I want assisting”.

Lenore thought it sounded like she’d just got herself landed with another job. After the ‘soul collection’ they’d done she was a bit concerned about how many new duties she was potentially getting.

“Hang on a minute, I’m only meant to do your admin aren’t I? Not actually doing the temptations and stuff?” Hastur shrugged, he pointed out it was a bit hard on poor Ligur making him do all the work. She was less than impressed, but agreed to go with him to watch, curious about what ‘temptations’ would feel like on the ground.

Ligur nodded approval. He could sense her curiosity and willingness to get some hands-on experience. She was really getting into the right frame of mind. Soon have the not-quite-human acting like a proper demon he thought.

He handed Hastur a large wodge of slightly soggy paperwork saying “take your pick”. He thumbed through the sheets before settling on one relating to ‘wrath’. Ligur grumbled that he always picked those ones suggesting maybe he should pick ‘lust’ if he was taking his ‘pretty pet’ out with him.

Hastur was on the defensive immediately “you can’t call her that, she’s my P.A. to you, only me as can call her my pet. She’s only along to watch anyway”.

Ligur backed off grumbling. It was all for effect. He was actually very pleased that Hastur had taken one of the non-lust temptations.

He hated earth so had been sending Eric out, but Eric had proved useless at anything other than ‘lust’. Being a cute looking demon, and very sassy with it, made him quite popular with the humans when he wanted to be. But he wasn't very sophisticated and they couldn’t just do ‘lust’ forever and get away with it.

He smiled as the other two disappeared through the floor. The not-quite-human was going to be so useful once Hastur had her trained. He thought she’d be good at more than just ‘lust’ too. Although that might be a good place to start her off because, as Hastur kept saying, she was very pretty.

If Eric could manage lust then he thought she would have no problem. She might even be a bit more demonic than Eric already. Eric had never discorporated anyone just for looking at him the wrong way. Ligur smiled to himself, perhaps he’d get the not-quite-human supervising Eric, that would cause all sorts of wonderful arguments.

…...

It appeared this temptation entailed drinking a lot in a rough looking pub in north London. Lenore was happy to watch Hastur at work, downing pints and shots of tequila. She was a bit concerned he might get really drunk, but he said “can clear the alcohol from my system whenever I want”.

She wasn’t sure how that worked and he demonstrated, causing the glass-washer behind the bar to break as it flooded with several pints of bitter. He looked a bit sheepish “don’t normally do that, I usually like being drunk”. 

The pub was busy, but not too loud. It was also an ideal place to go to pick up DIY tips. A drunken old man in stained work trousers with multiple pockets and built in knee-pads was talking to a young lad, possibly an apprentice, at great length about the best way to fit skirting-boards.

There was a lot of swearing, but it appeared good natured. Hastur’s usually unorthodox appearance blended in perfectly here and it was Lenore who felt out of place.

She noticed a certain tension entering the atmosphere as a deranged looking woman rushed in and demanded a glass of water from the bar. The bar manager came over telling her she had to leave as she was barred. The woman had no intention of leaving, running round behind a table and clutching a chair to her to prevent ejection.

Before things could progress a large, unsteady man with a blonde buzz-cut and dishevelled clothes came in. He was apparently looking for the woman and, when he saw her, started shouting loudly in what sounded like Polish. The two friends joined together behind the table refusing the bar manager’s attempts to remove them.

Things took a more worrying turn when the door to the pub opened yet again, this time revealing a short stocky man in a huge overcoat with several shopping bags. He made a beeline for the couple shouting at them in north London accented English that they’d stolen his cider.

As the events played out Lenore came to the conclusion that this was a selection of the local homeless population. The woman was apparently the partner of buzz-cut man and had waited until overcoat-man had fallen asleep before helping herself to his alcohol.

The volume was increasing and the bar manager getting more and more insistent they had to leave, threatening the police and then shouting to the woman behind the bar to call them.

Hastur, up to this point, had been unconcerned in proceedings, but he suddenly winked at Lenore and turned round to watch. The man and woman behind the table were getting more and more agitated as overcoat-man waved his hands at them and at the bar manager.

Hastur surreptitiously wiggled a finger towards them and buzz-cut man seemed to go into a rage, picking up the chair and throwing it towards the bar manager threatening to kill him if he got the police on to them.

The bar manager had his hands up in a placatory manner and talked sternly, but calmingly, to buzz-cut man who seemed to be listening. Hastur frowned, trying again. This time the woman reacted, suddenly flying out from behind the table and cannoning into overcoat-man, continuing through the door and down the street.

The bar manager spun round as she left, letting buzz-cut man out from the other side of the table. He too shoved into overcoat-man, knocking him to the ground, before heading off down the street.

The bar manager breathed a sigh of relief, looking round at the rest of the pub with a wry smile on his face. Overcoat-man lay still, crumpled up on the floor.

Hastur nudged Lenore and they wandered out. Lenore just glanced down as they went and noticed a dark puddle starting to seep out from under overcoat-man’s body.

They wandered off down the street as the police sauntered up to yet another pub fracas they could do without getting involved in. She pulled at Hastur’s sleeve, but he ignored her taking a sharp left into an alleyway and holding her arm as they sank back down through the ground.

Back in Hell she turned to him and said “did that guy get stabbed?” Hastur nodded happily, “didn’t think he was going to do it, once his missus got away I thought that was an end to it, but he couldn’t let it go, right in the stomach on the way out, blink and you’d’a missed it”.

Lenore agreed, saying she had missed it and asked “will he die?” Hastur was confused saying they’d all die, but then realised she was being more specific. “Nah, not for a few months and it’ll be the cirrhosis that gets him in the end not being stabbed, been better if it had been fatal, but I can’t control everything”.

He seemed miffed, almost as if she was criticising him. She hastened to reassure “I thought it was all over, how did you do it?” Hastur looked mollified “just suggested he had it coming, old fool making such a fuss and worrying his missus like that, he ‘deserved’ it”. Lenore shook her head “he’d have gone to heaven otherwise?”

Hastur said he would. “He never done no-one no harm, was looking after that lass too, was going to marry her and he went to church regular. Although that might be for the free tea and coffee. He was going to clean himself up, get a job, work for a charity and ‘do some good’, help people like himself. He’ll go to prison now, move onto drugs cuz you can’t get the booze inside and things will just go downhill from there. He certainly ain’t going to heaven now, we’ll have him within the decade”. He grinned happily.

They resurfaced back in the library and he began writing a report, carefully licking the quill before scratching out letters on the parchment in front of him. Lenore looked over his shoulder saying “I didn’t even see she had scabies” as Hastur wrote in lurid details about the infected rash running down the side of the woman’s face and neck.

He snorted “you don’t notice much do you?” She sighed, it was going to be another one of Hastur's reports where he went into loads of unnecessary detail. The woman’s skin problems were hardly relevant to her boyfriend’s enraged attack - but that was Hastur all over, he adored little details like that.

She thought about the temptation and couldn’t help but feel sorry for buzz-cut man. He sounded nice, looking after scabies-woman, planning to marry her, wanting to sober up and do some good with his life.

He had been kind and was only trying to look after what was presumably the love of his life. One moment of madness in a drunken argument and his whole life would be ruined, or ruined again she supposed, as he was a homeless alcoholic to begin with. That made it worse really, he had still been bound for heaven despite his dire situation until this one incident. 

She sighed, if only he’d just run out after his ‘missus’, not stabbed overcoat-man, what possessed him? She re-ran that sentence realising that it had been Hastur who had ‘possessed’ him, if not bodily then at least mentally. He really was an evil bastard.

She looked at Hastur scribbling away, no doubt writing about fleas or something equally irrelevant. He was so attractive: black eyes glazed in concentration, a slight glimmer of slime around his collar, scratching out gory details about the latest soul he'd captured. Her evil demon, so perfect, so beautiful.

She sighed heavily and Hastur grunted at her “not now pet I’m busy”. She smiled and went up to bed.

She woke up when Hastur got in with her. He’d clearly decided to be affectionate and do the hugging and stroking thing he’d become so keen on. She wasn’t really in the mood and tried to get him to go back to work, but he looked so disappointed that she gave up.

He lay cuddling her for a bit then asked “are you awake?” That was a silly question, she considered telling him no, she was asleep, but decided against it so hummed in the affirmative. “With the temptation, did you get anything?”

The question didn’t really make sense so she asked him to explain. “Well, like, could you sense what they were thinking?” When she said no he started to talk about sensing emotions, about how to read what people were thinking, how to implant ideas, temptations.

She sighed, this really wasn’t the time. “I’m sleepy Hastur and I can’t do that sort of thing anyway”. He answered “you might if you try. Just think about it pet”. He stayed quiet enough for her to really fall asleep this time, although the idea was now implanted in her mind.


	45. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the pregnancy progresses a reminder of time passing - will Ligur get over his sulks and come up to see them? Is Lenore really better and is Hastur still happy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing Christmas for demons - I could have gone on and on with this :) - bit of a nice and possibly even comedy interlude anyway.
> 
> So…. Adam’s birthday is meant to be in August but I don’t think the exact date is specified. For the purposes of this 9 months would probably be up in July. The change is simply so I can squeeze Christmas in after what is at least a couple of months of pregnancy. Not that any of this is remotely canon anyway so I guess moving the odd date isn’t going to spoil it too much!
> 
> Anyway I fudged it because I really wanted to put in the Christmas scenes that had been whirling round my head since real Christmas - it’s turned out to be a rather an odd time of year to post it, but so be it. I sneaked in a watch of some Christmas Great British Bake Offs to get me in the mood for checking/re-writing and posting anyway :)
> 
> Hope it’s as enjoyable to read as to write…for anyone who’s stuck with it this long!

Lenore had been pregnant for weeks now, but still didn’t really look it. She was being sick most mornings and was still prone to the odd fit of tears. The only other sign of any change was a craving for rare beef.

Hastur seemed to have got used to life up on earth and even Ligur seemed to have got more friendly. He never stayed long, but she’d actually had a conversation with him in the library about the temptation she’d gone on. He seemed disappointed she felt sorry for the man, but pleased when she said she wouldn’t mind going out on another one.

The weather was terrible for the next few days though, and Hastur insisted they stay in so she didn’t get wet or cold. She marvelled at the two opposites of his personality - the calm merciless killer and corrupter of souls, compared to the caring concerned version, worrying about her getting wet in the rain and making sandwiches.

She reminded herself again of Dagon’s disturbing statement: ‘he’ll look after you as long as you’re useful’. Was that it, or was there something more to it? Did he really care about her or was it just that she was growing the Antichrist for him?

She decided to try his trick of reading emotions. He had suggested she might be able to do it. However, reaching out with her mind, trying to probe into what he was feeling, she just hit a blank void. 

Hastur looked at her strangely asking “what are you doing pet?” She asked him how he felt about her and the answer was depressing “you’re pretty and useful and you’ve got the Antichrist in you and you’re mine”. She liked the last bit - being ‘his’ gave her a nice warm feeling, a bit like being cared about, but the rest was just rubbish.

‘Pretty’ was ok as a term of endearment, but it didn’t really mean anything, ‘useful’ was just as she’d feared and the Antichrist? Well damn the Antichrist and Armageddon she didn’t want them anyway.

She was hit by a wave of unhappiness and considered taking herself out of the situation. Maybe going to sleep, or at least to sit in the dark and quiet; not thinking, trying not to cry.

While pondering it a sudden thought hit her: it was only a few days to Christmas! She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about it. The moment of unhappiness passed and she excitedly told the demons about her revelation.

The demons had heard of Christmas and, in fact, were big fans of it. Lots of envy, greed and gluttony about Charu explained. The religious aspect didn’t phase them, they saw it as a distraction from the true meaning of Christmas - i.e. a time for wholesale sinning on the part of all humankind. They didn’t quite understand why she was so excited though.

The attic rooms had some of the more gaudy type of decorations - tinsel and fairy lights and baubles etc including an artificial tree. She hoped decorating the house and cooking Christmas food: mince-pies, gingerbread, trifle etc, would cheer her up. She knew the demons liked sweet things, so planned a whole list of Christmas shopping to keep them happy.

She shyly invited Charu and Xaphan to spend Christmas day at the house. They were a bit confused - Hell didn’t celebrate Christmas. In fact the only ‘holiday’ they had was in commemoration of the glorious revolution and it was followed by several weeks of sombre mourning for those killed during the fall, so wasn’t much of a celebration.

She suggested to Hastur that Ligur might like to join them and maybe a few more of the pit demons too. He shrugged “I’ll get Charu to ask ‘em if you want pet - what does it entail?” She said it was mainly eating and drinking a lot, but you had to give presents too.

He was suspicious about this - sounded too much like ‘doing good’. She explained that they were usually presents people didn’t really want but had to pretend to like in order to be polite. That cheered him up - tempting people to lie was proper behaviour for demons.

She had to order a lot of the Christmas stuff on-line, reflecting sadly that she wouldn’t be able to drink for the first Christmas since she had been child. From the age of around 12 her parents had allowed her a glass of something with the dinner, and of course there was brandy butter with the pudding, alcohol soaked fruit in the mince-pies, sherry in the trifle and mulled cider with brandy.

She decided that, although she wouldn’t drink anything alcoholic, she would allow herself foods with small quantities of alcohol in. She was tempted to say ‘bugger the Antichrist’ and just get drunk but it wasn’t really the child’s fault.

Telling Hastur they needed shopping she checked the tubes for Oxford Circus. This really would be a test of patience for herself and the demon alike.

Oxford Street and its department stores on the run up to Christmas is very much like Hell: overcrowded with annoying, hostile creatures too wrapped up in their own agenda to consider anyone else, screaming (from children rather than souls in torment), loud terrible music, stuffy overheated shops and bars crowded with drunks. She still wanted stuff so determined to go anyway.

It was every bit as bad as she’d feared and worse. Hastur seemed determined to cause as many problems as possible, both on the tube and in the busy shopping street. His progression left a swathe of angry travellers and shoppers in his wake as he seemingly ‘accidentally’ got in as many people’s way as possible.

She could see him sniggering as a fight broke out behind him. He’d forced a man into the path of an oncoming cyclist, who didn’t take kindly to pedestrians stepping out without looking. She realised he was only doing his job, but it was annoying.

While he was watching a couple of women fighting over the last of a pile of brightly coloured children’s toys she managed to discretely get presents for him and Ligur. She was starting to think of the two demons as a bit like an old married couple - they had familiar arguments and half fights over silly things, they shared significant looks and both pretended not to care much about the other when they clearly did. It was quite sweet.

Lenore got them matching pairs of fingerless gloves as Hastur had complained they got cold hands out on lurks together, but he put his claws through anything with fingers. She decided on bottles of various different colourful alcohols for the other demons, heading down to a specialist off-licence in Soho, much to Hastur’s discomfort.

The bags were mounting up and she felt they’d barely scratched the surface of things she would need. However, accepting they weren’t going to be able to carry much more, she steered them to a steak restaurant near Leicester Square.

They didn’t want to let Hastur in. She’d gotten so used to his shabby demonic appearance that she'd forgotten it was unusual.

She hissed at him to smarten his suit up and take his coat off. He begrudgingly did so, revealing under the unpromising exterior the waistcoat with silver embroidery she’d found for him before the coup. It was miraculously clean again, as was the a dazzling white shirt he wore underneath. They reluctantly let them in.

She didn’t want any sides so just ate a huge steak, served ‘bleu’, which alarmed Hastur “you can’t eat raw meat, humans don’t do that”. She glared at him growling that she was going to get blood for dinner one way or another.

Hastur looked at her warily and decided not to intervene again. She was happy at least and that’s what he’d wanted. He was considering how best to train her in using her new demon powers. Armageddon was a few years away and he was sure he’d have her ready to fight by then. After dinner he suggested it would be better to go back via Hell because Hell was so much nicer than the tube at rush hour near Christmas. 

When they got in she made mulled cider (with an apple juice version for herself) with lots of sugar, spices and fruit, adding brandy near the end to keep the alcohol content up. Sugary, spicy, alcohol drunk hot out of mugs seemed to be exactly the sort of thing the pit demons would like and it was a big hit. So much so that they asked for the recipe.

The pit demons helped put the decorations up and dress the tree. Kevin and Xaphan adored the colourful shiny things and tied up one of the smaller demons with tinsel, hanging baubles on his long pointy ears and giggling like school kids. Ligur put in an appearance asking to try the mulled cider - apparently the denizens of Hell were so impressed with it that rumour had got as far as the working floors.

She made another batch and baked mince-pies and gingerbread, which also went down well. This really was fun. Christmas was always a time best shared with others and the demons were so charmingly naive when it came to the traditions it felt like she had a house full of children.

She thought that one through again - she didn't really like children did she? She hoped the pregnancy wasn’t warping her feelings, making her broody and giving her a ‘mothering instinct’. If that was the case how would she feel when the child was born and handed over to it’s earthy guardians?

To cure herself of human emotions she asked how things were going down in Hell. She was treated to a lurid account of how the coup plotters had been torn apart in front of assembled cheering crowds of demons.

The trials were nearly over and the pits were busier than ever with the new torments victims. Hastur told her solemnly that they were trialling ‘natural childbirth’ as a new torment. Adding happily that the pit demons would have had a lot of practise with deliveries by the time it was her turn. This put a dampener on her mood somewhat.

Hastur's insistence on stroking her belly to check how ‘Armageddon was getting on’ didn't help either. He’d unexpectedly lift her top and put his head on her, snuffling at her and sighing happily. "Growing well, it all smells good". He meant well and she didn’t want to upset him so she put up with his attentions without making a fuss.

Christmas morning started with champagne and orange juice. 'Breakfast' came in multiple courses. Firstly bacon rolls, then liqueur chocolates: which were an enormous hit with the demons once they worked out you needed to take the foil wrappings off. Then came chocolate orange segments and chocolate coins. Finally they settled down to nibbling marzipan fruit and mixed nuts. For entities that didn't need to eat their appetites were impressive.

All the demons, excluding Hastur and Ligur, got uproariously drunk fairly early on, playing party games she’d never heard of. The games all seemed to involve forfeits - either painful or obscene and occasionally both. Stopping for dinner they ate as if they were starving. They loved the idea of food you could set fire to and wanted to relight the pudding several times.

Christmas crackers were an unexpected source of trouble. Whoever ‘lost’ the cracker pull generally started a fight over it. The loud ‘crack’ noises alarmed Hastur, causing him to break a glass and bleed all over the tablecloth. The paper-crowns were popular though, as were the really bad jokes and the tiny little silver trinkets inside each cracker.

All the demons liked opening their presents too, tearing the wrapping paper to shreds with sharp claws or teeth. The whole concept of being given things was alien to them and they seemed to enjoy the novelty value. Hastur was embarrassed but secretly very pleased with his gloves. Ligur barely acknowledged the gift, but she saw him wearing them later on.

While the demons entered into the spirit of the thing they didn't quite seem to have got the hang of presents though. Solemnly handing each other various objects they'd picked up around her house wrapped in various things. Some had used wrapping paper, others had found aluminium foil, some cushion covers or bedclothes.

It explained why she'd missed various random items from around the house, but it was sweet they’d made the effort. She smiled happily as Charu handed her a lampshade covered in a sheet and waited expectantly while she unwrapped it.

Hastur waited until the other demons were busy and, looking embarrassed, handed her a lumpy, stained paper bag tied round with frayed twine. He muttered something about it being a present.

It didn’t look like something he’d found around the house and Lenore wondered out loud when he'd managed to buy her a present. He said he'd 'made it'. She was intrigued. By this time the other demons had noticed and were crowded round, much to Hastur's discomfort.

Unwrapping it carefully she found it contained a large, very dead rat, that smelled quite alarmingly and was oozing into the bag. She hastily put it on the table and asked "Hastur, sweetheart, how exactly did you 'make' this?"

He hastened to explain. "Found him outside, he was alive, but I made him dead" he said looking pleased with himself, adding "for you". She smiled at him, he really was adorable. Charu was at the table, poking the rat and exclaimed "it's full of maggots".

Lenore was not impressed. She went over picking up one of the tiny wriggling bodies and, addressing it directly, said "Hastur is that you? Are you eating my present?" The other demons thought this was funny. Hastur cleared his throat and admitted that, yes, he was in fact eating it, giving the excuse: “he was oozing, dint want the bag to break”.

The demons collapsed in fits of drunken hysteria while Hastur looked confused at their evident amusement. She managed not to laugh and simply advised he finish the gooey bits, saying she'd keep the bones. Maybe she could use the skull for a necklace or something. The rest of the rat corpse soon disappeared.

Hastur was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. He'd stayed sober for ages now and actually managed to have fun despite the fact. He liked being able to clearly remember everything that happened. Not passing out and losing hours of time was useful too. His pet seemed happy again, the Antichrist was growing well and Ligur was back. He sighed contentedly.

Ligur had been unsure about the whole Christmas thing. It seemed way too human, but Hastur had sent a message full of threats telling him he had to attend. He appreciated the threats, they were so gloriously gory and so very typical of his Hastur. He had reluctantly decided to come. 

He was definitely only coming to check up on the demons working there to make sure they weren’t using it as an excuse to slack off. Certainly not because he was worried Hastur might try and carry out any of his threats and certainly not because he didn’t want to fall out with him. He was also absolutely not coming up because he missed Hastur, or because he wanted more of the fancy booze either.

The not-quite-human giving him a present startled him, but he admitted it was something useful - not a sentimental human thing - so that was ok. The drink was nice and he liked the dim colourful glow from the fairy lights. The slight red tint reminded him of the nastier bits of Hell, as did the sound of drunken demons carousing. It was almost homely.

The not-quite-human was less pathetic as well, shouting at the pit demons when their squabbles and fights started to get out of hand. She seemed to make an impression on them, glowing faintly with hell-fire in a subtly dangerous looking way. He was pleased she seemed to be establishing herself, and showing an interest in the practical side of the job too. Things were shaping up well.


	46. Almost Like a Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite a lot happens in the chapter - another outing, some more sex and a bit of ‘demon training’. Also a reminder that getting over trauma isn’t as quick as you may hope…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter grew and grew and I think now that I’d have been better splitting it. Too late now!

The depressing mists and drizzles of January gave way to a blustery miserable February. Lenore was looking fatter and suffering on and off with cramps in her legs and stomach, as well as mood swings. Sometimes crying, sometimes getting so angry she would start glowing with hell-fire. Hastur seemed to be able to calm her down most of the time, singing to her and stroking her back.

They’d been out a few times on temptations and the odd lurk. She had shied away from any more collections though. Hastur seemed content enough. He’d started taking more of an interest in things again and kept saying he needed to train her to be more like a demon, although they hadn’t progressed much beyond talking about it.

One cold wet afternoon the group in the library were getting fretful. Lenore was working on the backlog again and the current file was full of errors and omissions. Ligur had tried to help, but simply disarranged the papers and now she couldn't find the cover sheet. She sifted through the file swearing under her breath.

Ligur was using a vicious looking knife to clean his finger nails while whistling tunelessly and Hastur prowled around picking up books and papers then putting them down in different places. Charu was being driven to distraction by the three of them. He sighed as Hastur picked up the sheet he was attempting to write on.

Lenore suddenly snapped, screaming and throwing the entire file in the air, sitting still as the sheets rained down on her. The demons looked shocked, but it seemed to work as she found the cover sheet. Slamming it down angrily on the table in front of her she said testily "I need food, let's have dinner out somewhere".

Charu immediately said he couldn't go to a restaurant, too much effort to hide his demonic appearance and too much work to do. Ligur also refused, saying he had to go back down as he couldn't trust the demons in the office to carry on working if there was no one keeping an eye on them.

Lenore turned to Hastur who shook his head, saying he didn't like the idea. Lenore promptly burst into tears, a halo of flames surrounding her.

The other two demons prevailed on Hastur to go with her. He reluctantly agreed, although it took a while for Lenore to stop crying and, only after Hastur changed his clothes to a smart looking suit, did she calm down enough to consider where they could go.

Hastur's style was outdated. His suit was reminiscent of an Edwardian gentleman, although he was missing the top hat. Looking at his old fashioned elegance she suggested the Savoy and bustled off to see about reservations. Miraculously they had a table free for an hour's time.

The restaurant was busy, but the staff were wonderfully attentive. Their coats were taken (after Lenore hissed at Hastur to let go) and they were steered to a bar area for a pre meal drink. 

Hastur insisted on champagne and she found a decent selection of non-alcoholic cocktails, opting for one with lime and pomegranate that didn't sound too sweet. She sighed as Hastur belched loudly and looked round to see if anyone had noticed, a proud look on his face.

As a couple walked by she noticed the woman had dropped her purse and was about to shout to alert her when Hastur stopped her, turning her head for a kiss. It was only after he'd kissed her that she realised he was watching the purse out of the corner of his eye and breathed a sigh of satisfaction when it was picked up furtively by another guest who pocketed it then walked casually out.

"Greed" he hummed happily. Lenore was not impressed. "We're meant to be out for a nice meal and here you are dragging work into it". She pouted at him and he looked apologetic. "Couldn't resist, been doing this for thousands of years pet".

Their table was at the back and against the wall. Hastur insisted on sitting facing the room to 'look for threats', she rolled her eyes but didn't demur. The waiter passed him the wine list and he looked baffled, handing it to her. Lenore frowned, they always assumed ‘the man’ would order drinks, that sort of casual sexism irritated her.

The food menu was easier, Hastur simply chose the most expensive items so got foie gras followed by roast duck. Lenore had beef carpaccio followed by rare steak. Hastur was horrified at the plate of raw meat put in front of her and would have set fire to the waiter if she hadn't restrained him. "Need something with blood" she growled.

He thought her current obsession with eating raw meat was kind of demonic in a cute way and gave her a soppy smile. She had cheese for dessert and recommended the rum baba for him, which he very much enjoyed. Following up she had coffee, he brandy.

She gazed at him happily, he did look nice, all smart and clean. She thought on, he'd look better with wild black eyes, claws out and blood smeared on his face. Maybe keep the suit just for the contrast. She narrowed her eyes picturing him leaning over her. He gave a dirty sounding laugh "know what you're thinking pet".

The bill didn't seem to be an issue, the waiter looked confused for a second then walked off not having taken payment. She wasn't shocked and figured the Savoy could afford it, but did leave some notes on the table as a tip.

Hastur rid himself of his smart appearance the moment they got outside, much to her disappointment. He growled in an aggressive manner and pulled her close as a man walked by. "Could smell the lust on him, you're mine" he said and she felt a warm glow at his words.

"Maybe we could just get a room at the hotel, sod going home" she suggested, but he shook his head "I want to get you back. Use that crop on you, I want to give you bruises". She grinned widely, "back via Hell? Save time" she suggested.

"Greedy little slut, bet you're wet already, maybe I'll find an alleyway and just fuck you over the bins". She was shocked and thrilled in equal measure, but they sunk down to Hell rather than wandering the west end looking for alleyways.

Hastur felt he was owed something after enduring looking smart and going to a posh restaurant with her. He begrudgingly admitted the food had been nice, and he looked forward to the row that would ensue when the till receipts didn’t add up at the end of the night, not that he’d be around to see it.

He had cheered up somewhat sensing her lust, especially when he’d suggested the alleyway thing. It hadn't been a serious suggestion. He didn’t want her catching cold with the little Antichrist inside her, but it was thrilling that his pet would let him do that to her.

He wondered what else she would do. He felt this called for the lead again. What he really wanted was to hurt her. He needed to cause some damage and see bruises. He wanted to hear her beg, get her to say ‘please’ for him. Even if he couldn’t do any real damage he still needed to cause some pain, he craved her reactions, her capitulation and surrender.

She'd assured him that he could use the crop or paddle, so long as he avoided her belly and didn't get carried away. He thought he was doing well, keeping control, but still having fun. It was new for him. He still missed the intensity of proper torments, making his pet scream, cry and bleed for him, force herself still for him, give herself up to him, willingly let him hurt her.

Yes, he missed that, but while the Antichrist was growing he had to limit himself. In an obscure way he felt it was helpful for him, he’d learned to keep control so much better now. Once he could really hurt her he knew he’d be able to draw it out, make it last, enjoy every moment of whatever he was doing to her.

Back at the house Hastur took her upstairs and she felt her clothes disappear and a collar appear around her neck. She was pulled to her knees and looked up to see Hastur, lead in one hand the crop in the other, with an intense expression in his coal black eyes. She felt a wave of lust overwhelming her and let out a whine of pure desire.

He pulled her close to him, shortening the lead and walking slowly so she was forced to crawl at his feet. She felt the crop stroking down her back and over her bottom and whined again. "You want me to use this don't you pet?" She told him she did, he flicked his wrist and she felt the sting as it swatted her backside.

He continued walking round the room and she crawled close to his feet. "Tell me you want it" he ordered her and she complied breathing in sharply as the crop made contact with her upper thighs, once, twice, three times.

He stopped walking crouching down so his face was close to hers. He cupped her chin pulling her in for a brief kiss. "Down you go pet" he said as he pulled the lead slowly downwards forcing her face to the floor. 

"Stay there. Arse in the air and spread your legs" she quickly got into position as he walked behind her the lead slack in his hand. The collar and lead made her feel like she belonged to him, his property to play with as he wanted. Waves of lust hit her at the thought, this was so good.

She felt the crop playing up and down her inner thigh, it was withdrawn only to swish back catching her painfully. She jerked her head up, but was back down in position a second later. He growled crossly "stay still". When the next swish came she didn't move but did give a half suppressed cry of pain.

The soft purring voice crooned at her: "good pet, beg for more". She whimpered "Please Hastur, I want more, please" her words were followed by another swish and she cried out again. He was rubbing the crop up and down her inner thighs and she felt lust coursing through her, the sharp stinging from the blows only intensifying it.

Hastur felt the rush at her words. Her obedience made him feel good, but when she begged for him, asking him to hurt her, it felt amazing. The welts were red against her pale skin and he could see the bruising starting to come out. She was still, waiting for him to decide what to do, offering herself. So vulnerable, so willing, it was wonderful how she did this for him. All for him. His pet.

Lenore whispered "please" again not sure what she was asking for, just wanting to let him know she was his, she would let him do anything. The crop stroked gently over her thighs before being withdrawn, she tensed for the sting, which didn't come. Just as she relaxed he swatted the crop down hard three times in quick succession. She gave a half scream at the sudden pain.

He pulled the lead up again and he led her to the bed. "Hands and knees pet" he said patting the bed. Once in position he started kneading her thigh where the crop had raised sore red patches. She bit her lip against the pain, but at the same time couldn't help but whimper as another wave of lust washed over her.

He felt her trying not to react to the pain, forcing herself to stay still for him. He could feel his own lust building Touching her he slipped two fingers easily into her very wet cunt. He hummed "such a wanton little slut aren't you? Want me to fuck you?" Of course she said 'yes'. His fingers were working in and out faster and faster. He suddenly stopped what he was doing and stepped back.

She wasn't sure what he was doing until she heard the buzzing noise. He'd got one of the vibrators. He played it around her clit and then pushed it in and out a few times before telling her to take it and do it herself. She reached back and he handed her the vibrator. She pushed it in, moving it slowly in and out. "Pretty little slut" he said appreciatively.

She could feel ripples of pleasure down her stomach and thighs. The fact that he was stood behind her watching her, and had started playing the crop up and down her thigh, made it all the better. He instructed her to go faster, just watching for what seemed like a long time.

Her position was awkward and her arm was starting to tire. She felt the crop smack onto the side of her thigh and cried out loudly at the unexpected pain. "Don't slow down" he growled at her.

She sped back up again. "I want a good show pet, want to watch you fuck yourself for me" he said in a low voice filled with lust. Finally she felt him taking the vibrator off her and his cock pushing inside.

He tried to keep the pace slow, wanting to prolong the feeling but his concentration didn't last and he quickly sped up with harder thrusts. He pulled the lead up hard, forcing her head back, enjoying her half cut off cry of pain.

Moving a hand back down to her thigh he squeezed hard on the bruised area and felt her jerk sharply away from him, pulling the lead tighter. “Stay still pet, show me you’re mine, be good” he said as he fucked her harder, still pulling her head back. Lenore froze in position as best she could, she wanted to be good, to be his.

Hastur squeezed harder this time, digging his nails into the sore area, she cried out with the sharpness of it but managed to stay still. Her overwhelming desire to be good for him, to submit to this treatment washed over him and he dug his nails in again cumming as she cried in pain.

This time she found she'd wished away the mess herself. The pain from the blows with the crop was still present though. He virtually purred at her "Good pet, so good, stay where you are" she felt the collar disappear and his hand touching her clit. She was very sensitive, which seemed to be a side effect of the pregnancy, and his rubbing caused her to moan loudly feeling an orgasm building almost immediately.

"You're so responsive, it's wonderful to hear you moan. Say my name now pet" she obeyed, repeating his name over and over as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. She was feeling shaky and sat down carefully, remembering the swats on her backside as well as her thighs. She could see the marks on her inner thighs, red with a slight undertone of dark purple. He'd certainly bruised her.

He didn’t make a move to heal the bruises straight away though, looking at her speculatively instead. “Gonna teach you something pet, if you’re up to it?” The question wasn’t really a question as he didn’t wait for an answer, just instructed her to lie down flat.

“Close you eyes, you gotta keep them closed now pet” this time it was more in the nature of a command. She did as he’d told her, lying still for what seemed like along time before he spoke again.

“You can say ‘hot’ or ‘cold’, nothing else. Understood?” This confused her, if she could only say those two words how was she to answer? He clearly sensed her confusion and chuckled at it. “That’s a yes then” he answered for her. Remembering something else he added “you can say your word too if it gets too much, but try to stick with it”.

This was perplexing, what was he going to do? “Tell me, if it’s going to be hot or cold pet”. There was nothing touching her, the question didn’t make sense. Then she felt it, something on her upper arm, not quite hot enough to burn, but a shock and, after a couple of seconds, starting to get painful too. She wriggled and moved her arm away.

“No pet” he shouted at her. Then in a softer voice “be good and stay still, or should I tie you down?” The thought of being tied down was actually very attractive. Being helpless, bound and unable to escape him. Again she was confused how to answer though.

“Arms above your head then, wrists together”. The cord wrapped itself around her wrists and she felt them pulled taut. Her legs were still unbound and he seemed happy to keep them like that, stroking down her thigh and squeezing at the bruises slightly making her draw in her breath sharply. She could almost sense his smile of satisfaction.

“That’s it pet, use your senses, you should be able to tell before I touch you if it’s going to be hot or cold. Try it. Hot or cold?”

Such a calming voice, so reassuring. Could she tell whether it would be hot or cold now? Trying hard to reach out there seemed to be nothing there. A freezing sensation hit her thigh and she cried out, jerking her leg away saying loudly “cold!”

“Now I told you - don’t move” he sounded cross “I don’t need to bind your legs too do I?” Oh that would feel good. A stab of desire shot through her at the thought of it. Something was pulling her knees up in an instant. Her legs were forced up and out sideways, spread wide. Cords wrapped round her ankles too, it was an uncomfortable position already and she started to worry how long he would keep her like this.

“Hmmm, you wanted to be tied up pet, now you gotta deal with it” there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Try again, will it be hot or cold”.

Making a real effort to reach out with senses she didn’t know she had there did seem to be something there, but she couldn’t tell what temperature. She was sure he was hovering a hand over her breast. “It’s..” she didn’t get any further.

Using a very stern tone he demanded “hot or cold, nothing else”. She whimpered, not wanting to disappoint she said “hot”. It was only a guess, but it was the right one. His hand made contact with her breast. It was very hot, very uncomfortable, then quite painful. She whimpered again, attempting to cut the sound short.

“Don’t guess, do it properly” Hastur made his voice sound stern and cross, but he was actually really enjoying this. At her own insistence she was tied helpless below him. He could do anything to her. She was so trusting. It was delicious.

He’d chosen this exercise as it had been one he’d used on the new demons down in Hell to hone their skills. Along with their angelic aspect many had forgotten how to use their powers, couldn’t miracle and were helpless.

Some had naturally regained their abilities along with new ones - such as manifesting fangs, claws, animal transformations and summoning hell-fire. Fire had been his particular skill from the moment he’d crawled out of the fiery lake and he’d used it to great effect on any threat to the pit demons. Once his burns had started to heal he had rapidly re-learned his miracle abilities too. He had been one of the strong ones, dangerous and unpredictable.

For the others, if they were lucky, they got a sponsor, another demon who would take them in and teach them the skills needed to survive in Hell. He had taught a good half of the pit demons, wanting them strong and ready to fight Heaven.

The temptation to burn them slowly and painfully had sometimes been irresistible and the pit demons were all wary of him when he started glowing with hell-fire. Even if they didn’t get burned personally they remembered the marks on Hastur’s other pupils. For all that they had appreciated his efforts.

This was a simple exercise in learning to sense your surroundings, feel threats before they were on top of you. After intensive training the numbers suffering terrible burns at his hands had decreased and their powers had returned.

The pit demons were among the stronger demons in Hell and remained a close group, a faction of their own. This was another reason why the supposedly more powerful demons of the upper halls distrusted them. That and the way they revelled in torments and not just on lost souls.

It was rapidly apparent that Hell was not going to stay in it’s peaceful state for long. Factions were being formed, Satan’s leadership questioned. They had, after all, become demons because they couldn’t tolerate God’s rule, why would Satan’s rule be more accepted?

This was when Satan had bought the pit demons into the picture. He gathered together the previously near unknown group of demons, disfigured, bitter and vengeful. With Hastur’s diligent training they were obviously going to be a powerful ally to whoever they gave allegiance.

Satan had decreed they would keep order in Hell. Knowing their bitterness at their unfair treatment by heaven he had whispered poison into their ears. Hell had to be fair, Hell couldn’t follow heaven’s unfair example. Fairness had to be enforced. Disloyal and failing demons were as bad as angels, they were damaging the cause of Hell and needed to suffer. The justice should be swift and terrible if they were ever to be strong enough to regain their places on heaven’s high thrones.

The demons of the pits had responded enthusiastically. Satan fed their already present want to make others hurt and suffer as they had. They resented the pure and beautiful angels for what they’d done and wanted their vengeance. Satan offered them the chance to take their rage out on first the demons who plotted against him and then the lost souls. Not quite as good as angels, but an acceptable substitute. He shaped their hurt and suffering into a weapon he could use to support his leadership.

A working group was set up to establish Hell’s ‘justice’ system. Hastur, the obvious leader of the pit demons, had made all sorts of recommendations. He had always been one of the most receptive to Satan’s narrative and persuasion. He had joined the rebellion early and now quickly adopted Satan’s insidious suggestion that inflicting suffering on others was the only ‘fair’ way to deal with them. Although Beelzebub had tempered some of Hastur’s more unpleasant ideas for torments the resultant system was still feared.

That something worse, in the shape of Loyalty and Justice, had emerged just showed how extreme things had gotten in Hell. Pain and fear were the tools of power, fairness was a concept warped to suit the ambitions of high ranking demons. Hastur and the other sadistic demons of the pits were paradoxically the naive idealists, still believing in a vision of redemption that other demons had long abandoned.

As the exercise progressed Lenore thought the pain was getting worse. The heat was intense, the cold almost burning too. She really could sense it sometimes, but was getting tired now. Her legs were sore too, thighs starting to tremble, muscles cramping. The fear of burning heat or cold making her shake. This wasn’t fun anymore.

As she thought that, the ropes slackened and she was able to place her feet back on the bed. It was such a relief. “Open your eyes pet, you did really well”. The demon was looking down on her with a happy, satisfied smile and she glowed with pride at his words smiling back up at him.

Suddenly she was very aware of the ropes binding her wrists. The last time she had been in this position it had been Hastur holding her down. Her breathing quickened as the ropes seemed to turn to hands. The light-shade above her grew out it’s glass drop-beads and the room dimmed to a dull red glow. She felt the pain inside her again and screamed, twisting desperately in her bonds.

Hastur wasn’t sure what had happened. Lenore’s eyes had become unfocussed, the lighting in the room switched to a dull red and she had begun to struggle. The screaming started and he was again reminded of the early days of Hell. She resisted any attempt he made to get near, screaming and kicking wildly, seemingly unable to see anything outside of the nightmares inside her own mind.

This was more familiar territory to Hastur than the weeping lethargy that had overcome her before. For months after the fall demons would descend into this state, thrashing and screaming as they relived the horrors of the fall. He waved a hand to dissolve the bonds holding her and didn’t attempt to prevent her rolling away from him and curling into a protective ball.

What he did do was start to talk. Quiet and calming he told her it was over, she was safe, there was no more to endure. It had worked on other demons, it had worked when Ligur had done it with him, so he reasoned it would work on her too and it did. As she began to still he touched her hand. She grabbed it to her, pulling him into her, still shaking from the exertion. Hastur allowed himself to be held tightly as her screams dissolved into tears. As the panic subsided she tried to sit up.

“No pet, you hold onto me, you’re alright, come on it’s ok” she did hold onto him for a long time, still crying and trembling in his arms. Hastur blinked a few times. His memories of training the pit demons and of their blind screaming panic as they relived the fall had seemed to come alive in her.

Now, as then, the fierce, hysterical terror didn’t last long. He was glad to feel her grip lessen and the dread and horror that emanated from her diminish. Maybe teaching her to use demonic powers had made her more demonic in other ways.

Certainly to him her sudden reaction seemed pure demon. He wasn’t sure if humans ever did similar, but he’d felt surrounded by the mushrooming black clouds of pain and fear just the same as in Hell. It wasn’t a nice feeling, but demons weren’t meant to be nice.

Once released he stroked her carefully and the red marks and bruising disappeared. Lenore was unsure what had happened. She felt tired and shaky. Hastur was the first thing she saw coming out of the black-hole she had suddenly been transported to. He was watching her with such concern in his eyes.

He had told her it was alright and she wanted to believe that so much. The moment of panic and fear had passed and she could think clearly again, but if one little thing could trigger this then what else? Best not to think about it. Here and now she was safe and, if not loved, then at least cared for in some other way.

In the aftermath of her attack she felt embarrassed. Her behaviour felt ridiculous. What would he think of her? Hastur, however, didn’t seem concerned in the slightest. In fact he was clearly in an affectionate mood and pulled her back onto him, cuddling her to him.

It was as if he’d forgotten the entire episode, for which she was grateful. He murmured into her "bruises look so pretty on your skin and you’re so clever. Almost like a proper demon now aren’t you my pretty little pet?"

She thought ‘almost like a demon’ was meant as a compliment. It overrode her embarrassment and gave her a warm happy feeling either way. If he thought she was like a demon then obviously the fit she’d just experienced couldn’t be that bad. Demons would never show weakness like that would they?

Although the way he was acting, like it was totally normal, made her wonder. Perhaps demons did suffer the same as humans, maybe they weren’t so different.

He stroked her hair "I never had a pet like you before, you’re so good, so pretty and brave". He sighed, kissing the top of her head. She fell asleep surrounded by his happy, contented approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been even worse with the re-writing of late as it gets nearer the end I keep realising I had so many ideas that hadn’t made it to the original draft….and so many extra ideas since I wrote it. I’ve also started on another ‘bonus’ chapter which I may or may not post.
> 
> Work is being a pain and my own concentration levels are a bit wobbly. I’m not sure how I’ll deal with finishing this as this foray into writing feels like it’s the main thing keeping me sane. Probably why I keep adding to it! Although it’s something I’m doing primarily to help my own mental health I really hope it’s keeping some people out there entertained too.


	47. Ligur’s Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pregnancy progresses, Hastur obsesses over the bump and Lenore finally finds out how Ligur and Hastur ended up together.
> 
> Ligur looks after Hastur. Hastur looks after Lenore. Lenore looks after the Antichrist (for now) and the demons hope the Antichrist will look after them all…it kind of makes a circle which pleases the tidy part of my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting so near the end now. I’m excited and nervous in turn. It feels almost like I’m the one delivering a baby here! My first novel length piece and once it’s posted it’s all over… well apart from all the other add-on ideas fizzing around my head….

As they moved through a dreary damp March and a wet blustery April the pregnancy was starting to really show and Lenore felt moribund and heavy. The depression came back and she spent days crying in bed again.

Hastur was supportive and actually managed to learn to cook something other than sandwiches and cheese porridge. Although he always overcooked the steak for her liking, charring the outside with hell-fire rather than deal with the cooker. 

Enhanced demon senses, helped on by Hastur’s training, meant she could feel the child growing in her. In the quiet of the night she could hear it’s fast little heartbeat, feel it’s limbs stretching, it’s eyes opening for the first time.

It wasn't really a good thing as far as she was concerned. She didn't want it and was resentful of what it was doing to her. The marks of stretching were starting to show on her belly and the clear mental images of the child developing inside her made her think about the end of the world.

No more earth, no more humans, all because of the thing inside her. She had at least stopped throwing up in the mornings, but felt tired and run down and couldn’t sleep properly.

On the occasions she fell asleep without Baku in the room she generally woke up either screaming or sweating with fear. She had nightmares about the birth - Satanesque monsters crawling out of her - or about torments in the pits, or saw Hastur covered in fresh burns.

She was very grateful to Hastur for his present of the nightmare hound, but for him she’d get no sleep at all. It was also an incentive for her to get out of bed. Baku was always happy around her and didn't try to stop her crying when she needed to, even when she held onto him making his fluffy black fur damp with tears.

Hastur was obsessed with the 'bump'. He seemed to be even more in tune with what was happening than she was. He touched her stomach, sniffed and licked her and occasionally put his ear to her belly listening out for the heartbeat.

He’d decided the child was a boy and sometimes whispered to him, although too low for her to catch what he was saying. He mostly referred to the child as ‘my vengeance’ and in her own mind Lenore thought of this as his name. She even caught herself talking to him as well, addressing the little bump as ‘Vengeance’ when she did so.

Hastur often gave her commentary on what he believed Vengeance’s mood to be, sometimes Vengeance was happy, or sulky or sleepy. She supposed he’d get a proper name when he was born, something like Damien or Cain, but for now Vengeance seemed to suit him.

Waking one morning she found Hastur burrowed under the covers holding her tightly around the waist, his face pressed against her belly. He refused to let go and she only managed to get up by shuffling to the edge of the bed and sliding off it.

He followed her into the bathroom, hovering close by when she turned the shower on. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her getting in "what the heaven is wrong with you? I want to shower".

Hastur was huffy "just want to stay close, make sure my vengeance is ok, he’s upset this morning. You were crying in your sleep, it upsets him, you need to be happy for him".

Lenore wasn’t sure what to say to this. She certainly couldn’t control whether she cried in her sleep and didn’t see why she should worry about upsetting Vengeance. He was the Antichrist and could blessed well look after himself as far as she was concerned. "You can shower too if you want" she offered.

Surprisingly he agreed to shower ‘so long as you don't get smelly stuff on me’. He also took his clothes off, mumbling something about not wanting to get them wet. Lenore sighed happily at the sight of his naked body.

He didn't give her time or space to admire him for long. Coming up close behind her he pulled her carefully towards him, holding tightly then squirming slightly so their wet skin rubbed together.

"I like this, this bit is good" he told her. She giggled "it's not really the point of washing", "reckon it is, you lot just don't wanna admit it" he grunted moving his hand down below her belly and gripping firmly.

He kissed her as they stood under the water jets. His hair disappeared and the frog seemed to be enjoying the water too. Keeping the body contact he started rubbing her breasts and pinching her nipples. She was so sensitive his touches were wonderful.

Hastur wasn’t sure why he’d felt the urge to get into the shower. The first time he’d done it it had felt nice, but not nice enough to want to do it again. Something in the water seemed to take away from his normal smell. Demons relied on smell so much more than humans and without the miasma of sulphur and rot around him he felt exposed.

His pet insisted on getting all wet and smelly virtually every day though. He’d have to train her out of that if she was going to be a proper demon. He liked her warm, musty, unwashed smell. The time when she’d not washed for over a week had been glorious. This felt good though, slippery and warm. He continued squirming against her, rubbing her smooth skin, enjoying her moans.

She could feel his erection pressed into her back. "Need soap" she complained. "No smelly stuff, you can do that later" he said stroking his hand over her swollen wet belly, then continuing downwards. 

Lenore felt hypersensitive, even the prickles of water falling on her face and head felt good. Hastur's hand on her clit was slightly rough. As she leant back against his chest she got a strong whiff of the burning, pond weed smell, seemingly intensified by the addition of warm water. She moaned softly and he hummed in her ear "you're even wetter than usual" she wasn't sure if he meant the water or her arousal.

He started kissing her neck, then biting, not hard enough to really hurt, but quite firmly. She couldn't cope with the overload of sensations and he had to help support her. He shifted slightly and the contact against her back and the feeling of his cock pushing against her sent ripples through her. Her legs felt weak and his slightest touch was causing intense waves of pleasure.

He bit harder and the pain and pleasure merged making her feel like she was floating. The orgasm was intense and seemed to last forever. As she slowly regained control she found virtually all her weight was being taken by him and the feeling of being held tightly and his strong, familiar smell nearly sent her over again. He murmured in her ear "that felt good didn't it pet? You’re happy now aren’t you?" She didn't feel up to speaking so just hummed in the affirmative.

He left her to apply soap and shampoo, seemingly having had enough of water for now. When she came out she found Hastur still naked, lying on the bed. Ligur had arrived from somewhere and was currently sucking Hastur’s cock. She was embarrassed and turned to go back into the bathroom but he called her over. "Come and help pet".

She took off the bathrobe and sat on the bed leaning in to kiss him. He tired of that quite quickly grabbing her hair and pulling her down. "Both of you, pay me some attention".

Ligur rolled his eyes but moved over so they could both lick his shaft. They met at the top and Ligur surprised her with a kiss. Hastur put a hand on each of their heads, pushing them both down again. Occasionally their tongues met as they continued their attentions.

After a while Hastur gave more instructions "Ligur suck it, Lenore, you like green ooze, get on with it". They hastened to follow his directions. She enjoyed the slight bitter taste of the oily 'ooze', running her fingers round the edge of the green patch and kissing it gently.

After a short time she felt him pulling on her hair again. "Both together now" he barked out. Ligur grumbled as he moved round to allow her access "make ya mind up". Hastur shushed him and they started licking him again starting from opposite ends this time meeting briefly in the middle.

Hastur started groaning then shouted out incoherently as he came, managing to hit both of them. Ligur huffed, and Lenore acting on impulse licked the cum from his face. Hastur was delighted "you do her now" he cried. Ligur scowled but did as he was told.

Hastur grinned happily. Then said "Ligur needs to cum now, his turn". He shooed Ligur off the bed, saying to Lenore "hands and knees pet”. She got in position as directed and saw him still grinning at her “such a good little demons slut aren’t you pet?”

Without waiting for an answer he guided Ligur round behind her, telling him "You gotta be more gentle this time". Ligur growled: "don't do gentle", which sent thrills through Lenore. Hastur nudged her legs apart and started rubbing her "she's very wet for you" he said.

He turned to Ligur and got his cock out, then positioned it at her entrance. She waited impatiently, enjoying the way Hastur was directing both of them. He was clearly impatient too, instructing Ligur "go on, fuck her", adding "not that fast" as he started thrusting into her at some pace.

She could hear Ligur growling and looking behind her saw Hastur was kissing him as he ran his hands over his body. Ligur had a steady rhythm, and the thought of them making out behind her was very hot. She started pushing back onto him with each thrust and reached her own hand round to touch her clit.

Lenore still felt over sensitive and her orgasm was building quickly. She heard Hastur instructing Ligur again "faster now, are you going to cum for me?" then waves of pleasure were crashing over her as she came.

She heard Ligur's shout as she convulsed around his cock. He kept thrusting through her orgasm reaching his own peak shortly after her. He grabbed her hips pulling her hard onto him. She looked round and saw Hastur watching, entranced.

Ligur felt much happier about the not-quite-human. She was getting more demonic by the day. She’d helped Hastur collect that soul, learned to lurk properly, took part in several temptations. Then there was what she’d done to Eric, properly demonic that. Hastur seemed to be doing a good job training her too. Yes, she was definitely much more demonic, at least half demon by now he reckoned.

Hastur was happy too, happier than he’d seen him for centuries, millennia even. Looking forward to his Armageddon no doubt. Ligur also suspected not getting drunk all the time was good for him.

He wasn’t sure how they’d got around the ‘no torments’ rule, but clearly there was something keeping Hastur interested. Uncharacteristically Hastur hadn’t given him the details. Perhaps it was because of his reaction to the vibrating things. He wasn’t having anything to do with them, weird humans.

He’d come up with the intention of seeing Hastur on his own, but found, surprisingly, that he didn’t mind the half-demon being here too. She smelled funny and was very damp, but it wasn’t too bad, she tasted nice at least. Hastur was being as bossy as ever, but he didn’t mind that, so long as he was bossing her around too it was alright.

They all sat on the bed afterwards. Hastur grinning widely. "You two are great, like I got my own live porn". As if to prove a point Ligur took hold of Lenore and kissed her, Hastur joining them.

"It's alright with her" Ligur admitted grudgingly. Not to be left out she added "he's alright too I guess". They felt themselves pulled in for a three way hug and all lay still, enjoying the contact for a few minutes. 

Ligur cleared his throat, ummed and ahhed for a few seconds before admitting he'd actually come up in the hope Hastur would 'do' his wings. Lenore offered to dress and leave, conscious of how uncomfortable he seemed. Surprisingly he said she could stay. "Reckon you'll find out sooner or later".

She was mystified until he shook out his wings. They were a terrible state, the end section missing from both sides and the remainder twisted with angry looking red scars. 

"Not as good looking as him am I?" Ligur asked bitterly. Hastur shushed him saying "pretty demon, I'll look after you, come here". With the last words he pulled Ligur round and started grooming his wings. He motioned for Lenore to come round too and got her to work on a slightly less damaged part. It didn't take long as there wasn't a huge area needing attention.

Hastur hissed to her in an aside, "he didn’t really fall y'see. He was pushed. The bloody angels literally kicked him out". Ligur grumbled "dint have much choice did I? Couldn’t let Her send you down to Hell all on your own an’ not say anything. You wouldn't have lasted five minutes without me". Lenore remembered Hastur had said he'd had help after he’d crawled out of the lake.

Ligur continued "tried to get them to reconsider, said it was a mistake, but they wouldn’t have it”. Hastur was nodding and said “see angels aren’t fair, they don’t have justice like demons, they chop other angel’s wings off and chuck them outta heaven just for asking stuff. That’s why we have to be fair, it’s what makes us different from them bastards”.

Ligur continued “dint even ask Her, off with my wings and 'down you go' not so much as a by-your-leave. All cuz I asked, only asked, if there was a mistake, if they could take him back”.

He indicated Hastur, then continued in a gloomily satisfied tone “I was right mind you, he wouldn’t have managed on his own. All over burns he was, nasty open wounds all oozing, I patched him up best I could". The demon looked sad at this and turned to Hastur, grabbing his hand as if to reassure himself Hastur was ok.

Well, thought Lenore, that explained a few things. She couldn't think of anything to say, apart from how unfair it sounded and they knew that already. She didn't know how it worked, but surely becoming a demon wasn't as simple as just chopping off wings though. Hastur still had his wings and he certainly wasn't an angel.

It was God who’d cast the rebels out of heaven and she wasn’t sure if other angels could do it without consultation. Did that mean Ligur was still an angel then? Was he only staying in Hell to look after Hastur? Ligur didn't act like an angel, but maybe that was deliberate.

She dismissed the idea. Ligur certainly wasn't angelic in any way. It was foolish to think he was - he was as cruel and evil as any other demon, maybe even more so. Certainly nothing celestial about him. He seemed to have pretty much chosen to be a demon because of Hastur though.

She supposed Hastur just did that to you, she'd certainly chosen him over heaven. So, the two of them had ‘fallen’ for Hastur, followed him down to Hell rather than be alone in heaven, or on earth, without him. She felt a flash of kindred spirit, a sympathy with Ligur that she hadn’t felt before.

Hastur continued on a happier note "when we was all fixed up I told him I could get him a job in the pits, but he ended up getting a Dukedom right off. Took me years to catch up. Bastard".

At this Hastur cuffed Ligur round the ear with his free hand. Ligur dropped Hastur’s other hand and punched him in the ribs instead. There didn't seem to be any real malice to it though and the fight did not progress. Clearly this was a familiar argument.

Lenore felt awkward, there was obviously such a strong bond between them and she felt like an interloper. Until Hastur added "course, you got me out of the House, stitched that shoulder up, and you’re growing my vengeance for me. Guess you both look after me".

She wasn't sure about how this would play with Ligur, but he smiled at her and she sensed a genuine warmth behind it. Hastur spoiled the mood by adding "as it should be, I'm important, everyone should look after me". This time both Ligur and Lenore turned to hit him and he held his arms up to fend them off. 

Ligur was pleased. The half-demon had done a good job of his wings and didn’t seem to be worried by the state of them. Although he’d reacted a lot better than Hastur to the change to their appearances, he still wasn’t comfortable with it.

His almost unchanged looks, aside from the damaged wings which he kept tucked away, together with a natural sociability, had made him quite popular in the newly created Hell. As he’d scurried between the caves where the pit demons dwelt and the building site for the new council chambers he’d collected a lot of allies.

He was the one who’d told Satan of the large group hiding out in the caves. Satan had been pleased with that - a whole legion of new demons to add to his army. Angry and dangerous demons at that, resentful of what heaven had done to them and eager for vengeance. That information was what got Ligur his Dukedom.

Ligur rarely thought about it any more, but the conversation with the half-demon had prompted him to reminisce. He had known at the time that asking Gabriel about one of the fallen was dangerous. He hadn’t quite appreciated how dangerous though.

Heaven had been in turmoil and there was a hysteria about traitors when he’d asked. That Gabriel and the others hadn’t taken him straight to Her surprised him. When he’d been called in to hear their decision he had expected at least the Metatron. Instead there had been a group of angels, he’d been grabbed, held down and…

Well he still remembered the pain and shock of it. It had been unnecessary too. If they weren’t going to let his Hastur back into heaven he’d gladly have cursed Her and taken the fall down to Hell on his own.

Six thousand years had proved his decision right. Hastur wouldn’t have lasted if it wasn’t for his care. Hell would have probably turned on all the pit demons in fact. The thought that he might, albeit accidentally, be responsible for selflessly saving other demons from a nasty demise made him slightly uncomfortable. Too close to doing ‘good’. 

He couldn’t have let Hastur suffer all alone in the new Hell though. It had been designed as a prison and punishment for the rebels, but Hell was what you made of it. As long as Hastur was there it was much better than heaven in his opinion. He certainly wouldn’t tell Hastur that though, he was far too full of himself already!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’ve read several fics with the ‘Ligur fell for Hastur’ idea before and I think more than one with the idea he deliberately damaged his own wings to get down to Hell (although I can’t find them now). This is a bit of a twist on that and should make Hastur’s obsession with ‘fairness’ more understandable too.
> 
> In my head Ligur is definitely all in it for Hastur and doesn’t much care about anything else. Lenore falls into the same camp with the addition of being rather more unconditional about it. Whereas Hastur himself is pretty much clueless about any sort of interpersonal stuff and just takes their ‘devotion’ as his right…because he’s sooo important ;)
> 
> Hastur has turned out as having some weirdly intuitive emotional responses at times. I’m not sure where they came from, but it felt right for the characterisation so I went with the flow!


	48. Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really think this needs summarising, it’s exactly what it says. The Antichrist is finally born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of two fairly emotionally charged chapters and is more focused on Hastur's reactions/feelings than either of the other two.
> 
> I’m not an expert on obstetrics and childbirth so apologies to anyone out there yelling ‘that’s not how it works’ - I did my best!

Lenore determinedly ploughed through the backlog files into June, feeling numbed to the horrors and uncaring of the fate of the unfortunate people who succumbed to temptation. Her demonic abilities seemed to help. It was almost like they insulated her from the world. She felt things at one remove, not quite emotionally dead but with the sharp edges dulled.

She felt huge through the heat of June and her ankles swelled in July. Inside her little Vengeance kicked regularly, waking her up and giving her indigestion. She could feel its frustration at being cooped up, a longing to stretch its tiny limbs, to see more than the darkness of the womb.

The child’s impatience affected her too and she felt restless and discontented. She was looking forward to the birth so she could get rid of the thing inside her and return to normal.

Hastur was jittery, constantly asking her how she was and touching the bump regularly. He liked it when his vengeance kicked, even when it got him in the face as he pressed his head against her.

He sometimes sang to it, weird sounding demonic chants and hypnotic lullabies that gave her headaches or sent her to sleep. She woke slowly one morning and overheard him bargaining with Vengeance about his ‘rewards’ after Armageddon.

He seemed to be supplying the other side of the discussion, pausing as if listening to what the Antichrist was saying, staring intently at her ‘bump’. It seemed he was having a hard time persuading Vengeance that she was entitled to a room too, for her role in growing him. The child couldn’t really be answering so the argument must be entirely from his own imagination.

The idea of arguing out loud with your own imagination, and losing the argument too, made her laugh. At the sound Hastur jumped back looking embarrassed and muttering “you will want your own room though pet, won’t you?” She nodded solemnly, which seemed to make him feel better.

It amused her that he still envisaged himself and Ligur sharing a single room together even after Hell won the war. She liked the fact that he was so insistent she needed her own space though. Even though she had been getting on better with Ligur she didn’t fancy sharing a room with him and Hastur for all eternity.

Lenore realised she’d started assuming Hell would win and that she’d be ok. Neither was assured. In fact, if she thought about it, it didn’t seem at all likely that everything would work out just as Hastur wanted. She shook her head, best not to think about it really.

As it got nearer to nine months she realised it could start any time now. In the traditional manner of expectant mothers she had a bag packed ready. Although how much use comfy slippers and a fluffy white dressing gown were going to be in Hell she didn’t know.

She made a few trips to the pits with Hastur and Ligur and kitted out a torments room with a birthing chair with stirrups and a padded back. Hastur suggested they could keep it afterwards as it had ‘possibilities’, an evil looking glint in his eyes.

Lenore had bought some text books for him. He’d also obtained forceps from somewhere and seemed to take great delight in them. She was uncomfortable with his increased interest in the birthing process and how much he was asking about the levels of pain.

On one hand it was good he should take an interest, as he’d be the one delivering it. On the other hand how his interest manifested was disturbing. He seemed to be developing a concerning liking for the idea of her screaming in agony. Not entirely surprising when she thought about it, but not a reassuring attitude for a midwife.

Little Vengeance got more and more restless and it felt like it was squirming and shuffling round inside her, trying to lower itself ready for the final push. When her contractions started and her waters finally broke she had to restrain Hastur from rushing her off to Hell immediately.

During the early stages she walked around the house counting the minutes between contractions and eating biltong. The cravings for beef hadn’t subsided at any point during the term and for some reason eating helped her calm the nerves about the forthcoming labour.

The contractions started to get closer together and, eventually, he decided they needed to get going. They were still a fair way apart, nothing too urgent, but she managed to accidentally set fire to the rug in the library so Hastur demanded she go to a fire proof room immediately.

There was still no signal in the pits so he had to take her via the upper halls in a wheeled contrivance of uncertain age. It was made of a medieval hurdle, used originally for some unsavoury purpose, that had been mounted on the skeleton of a wooden cart with iron shod wheels.

Wheeling a heavily pregnant woman through Hell on a squeaky, noisy trolley was bad enough. When she also had a tendency to swear loudly, and occasionally set fire to things, it attracted quite a bit of attention. 

The demons were concerned enough about their own skins not to get too close though. Hastur was already showing signs of scorching around the edges. The arrival in the pits was low key, the demons there knew well enough that she wouldn’t want a crowd.

Hastur removed his coat, waistcoat and shirt and, donning a largely fireproof apron, sent another demon to fetch Ligur. He took a look, muttering about dilation of the cervix and timing of contractions.

“I reckon it’s started properly now pet, still be a while though. Don’t worry about setting stuff on fire - although I’d prefer it if you didn’t set me alight”. She smiled at him, grimacing a second later as a contraction hit.

He’d started a timer, apparently it was needed for the files. She didn’t see the need to sit in the chair any longer, walking in circles around the room until she couldn’t stand being cooped up any longer.

“Need to get out of here, have a wander round, and I’m hungry” she said, doubling over a second later with a contraction. He wasn’t sure but was also not prepared to argue with her at this stage.

They went out to the corridors and he shouted over to a distant demon to get some food. “Something with blood” she growled and the demon scampered off purposefully. “Don’t know what you’ll get pet” he said, but she didn't care.

She walked down the dark narrow halls holding onto the wall for support when necessary. They reached some of the torments rooms in use and she opened a viewing window curiously.

Hastur peered through too, it was an ‘active torment’ nastier than the one she’d previously witnessed. The demon in question was strapped to a table with a bright light suspended above him.

Bent over him was Charu, carefully using a set of pliers to pull at the demon’s tongue while it struggled against the bindings making muffled screams. Its head was encased in some sort of wire contraption with nasty looking pointy bits just resting against its head so every move would pierce the skin of its scalp or face.

Charu turned to the door and, when he saw who it was, grinned and waved happily. The next room contained unknown demons. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of blood and burning flesh. An artificial darkness hung around the torment chair and she couldn’t see clearly.

There was a bucket of burning sulphur with irons heating in it. She listened to the presiding demon patiently asking questions then applying the irons, causing screams and sizzles, before repeating the questions noting any difference in the answers.

Hastur took hold of her shoulders as she bent over with the strength of her next contraction. “Think you need to get back to the room pet, wanna check how you’re getting on”.

She allowed herself to be led back along the corridor and guided into the birthing chair. Ligur was there looking uncharacteristically agitated “dint know where you was” he said. Hastur muttered “watching torments” adding defensively “she wanted to”.

Ligur smiled at Lenore, humming happily. Watching torments was good for the half-demon, maybe she’d do her own at some point. He'd never had the patience for them himself, he admired Hastur's ability to draw the process out and really enjoy it. Although he did get bored with his long detailed descriptions of what he'd done.

Ligur thought the half-demon might take after Hastur. She clearly understood the attraction of pain, even if she was coming from the opposite side of the equation to him. Might be something to it. Hastur seemed to think she understood anyway.

The demon sent for food arrived with something that looked like raw liver and a glass of clear liquid. Against Hastur’s advice she ate and took a swig of the liquid. She spluttered but took a second swig and seemed to relish the taste “think that’s vodka”. Hastur hastily took it off her and sent the demon back out for water this time.

He was really nervous. The textbooks had been scary enough, full of things that could go wrong and warning signs to watch for. Then he'd envisaged her sitting in the chair throughout where he could keep a close eye on things. All this wanting to walk around was unexpected. He didn't really like the unexpected. 

Equally he felt she must have some sort of human instinct in the matter and it was best to let her be. He was torn between pride at his important role and a deep seated desire to not be so vital and blame worthy if things went wrong. Watching torments was good though, the familiarity of the pain and screaming took his mind off the stress of the situation.

Back in the room he went down to check how the dilation was going, poking about until she squirmed in the chair saying “will you get on with it, want to walk”.

She made a beeline back to the torments rooms. Hastur chatted away to her about what was going on in each room, whether it was active or passive, what stage of the process they were at. Ligur wandered just behind them watching her, approving of her interest.

She found the lost souls section and watched, engrossed, as they turned the corporation generator on. At the sound of the hum, the soul pinned itself back against the wall shaking in terror as the demon approached. He kicked the legs out from under the soul dragging it by the hair back to the centre of the room.

Hastur checked the clipboard saying “hmm ‘worshipping false idols’ didn’t even know we bothered with that any more”. Lenore was fascinated by the process. The demons were so business-like most of the time.

Occasionally she’d see flashes of something like Hastur’s sadistic glee on the pit demon’s faces as the victims screamed or cried. A lot of the time though they just seemed bored. Her new demonic senses could pick up the fear and the emotional responses to the pain flashed through her mind intensely.

It wasn't that she enjoyed it, but it made her feel a little better about the regular jolts of pain she was experiencing and took her mind off how much worse it was likely to get. She’d done the rounds of the pits several times, eventually deciding she needed to sit down as the break between contractions got shorter and the pain intensified.

This phase was more violent and she screamed abuse at Satan and Hell in general, throwing fireballs that ricocheted off the walls. Hastur himself came in for a fair torrent of abuse and she seemed to grow claws sinking them deeply into his arm with gritted teeth. He took it all without complaint.

She threw up the liver and vodka, which was probably a good thing. Hastur reminded her about breathing, ignored the abuse and fireballs, and told her she was doing well. He noted with concern that there was a fair amount of blood, but thought it was probably ok so didn’t say anything that might worry her.

His nerves were getting worse, but he tried not to show it. This was it, his vengeance would finally start. Well, there were another eleven years to go, but this stage felt important. Getting the Antichrist up to earth to grow and learn, ready himself to kill and destroy all those around him. To lead them in the final conflict. It would be glorious.

As he thought this he was caught by a blast of heat and heard another scream from his pet. She was doing so well and he did like her screams. He’d missed them over the last nine months. Soon be able to play with her again he thought happily. Then remembered about the breathing thing that humans seemed to think so important and focussed his attentions back on her.

Ligur wasn’t a pit demon and had no practical experience of tormemts nor, needless to say, of delivering babies, so was at a bit of a loss. Hastur seemed to think her behaviour was normal, was what he expected, so he didn’t intervene.

The pain and screaming seemed wrong to him. Surely humans would have died out by now if this was the usual process? No one would choose to go through this for the sake of a child, would they? Then again, humans were weird and he seemed to recall they were very attached to their spawn.

Threatening to kill the spawn was an easy way to control them. Although why they'd believe he'd kill innocents and allow more souls into heaven he didn't know. Weird humans. As she screamed again he suggested it would be a good idea for him to fetch someone more practised in this sort of thing.

Ligur arrived with Charu just as she was screaming and crying out that she wanted to go home. Charu grinned at her, and had the grin immediately wiped off his face when she sent a fierce fireball in his direction.

Hastur motioned for him to come nearer and she shouted loudly at him “don’t touch me, don’t need any bloody demons near me. I’m doing this despite of you” gritting her teeth as the next contraction overwhelmed her.

After this she did allow Hastur and Charu have a look to see what was happening. Ligur held her hand, wincing at the strength she used to grip it back. 

She suddenly started straining and pushing as if her life depended on it. Hastur stuck his head in close and started easing fingers in to try to feel what was going on. She demanded to know where he was and he popped up motioning Charu to take his place.

She was now griping Ligur by one hand and Hastur by the other. Hastur instructed Ligur in giving short concentrated breaths in time with her to try to encourage her and keep her focused. Between them they told her when to push and when to hold back, as she screamed and strained.

Finally Charu looked up and said to Hastur “its about to come out, cord is free of the neck, tell her to push hard, now”. Lenore screamed at him “talk to me. I’m. Right. Here” before the final push and the child was disgorged.

It wasn’t the end of the process, there was still the afterbirth, but Hastur popped down to the business end and took charge again, pausing only to stop the timer - eleven hours six minutes, 666 minutes - appropriate.

Cord tied off and cut, he cradled the child to him. Its head was misshapen from the contractions and it was a bloody mess of slippery fluids. He felt elated.

The thing in his arms made a rusty sounding cry and he gazed into blue eyes. It didn’t look like its father he was pleased to see. He tried to give Lenore the baby to hold but she told him to piss off.

He was reluctant to let it go anyway - this was his vengeance, tiny and bloody, now screaming at the top of its lungs at the world around it. He grinned, wiping his face and inadvertently smearing blood all over it.

The whole thing had left him drained. Demons weren't used to emotion and this had been an intensely emotional experience. His pet doing this wonderful, magical thing for him....and in his mind it was all for him.

Forget that the pregnancy had been forced on her, forget Satan's involvement, the child had been nurtured by them together. They had felt it grow, listened to its heartbeat, felt it start to move and see and think. Sang to it, soothed it. Him and his pet, they had done this, created it together. It was a weird feeling and totally new to him.

Hastur held the child up, rocking it and offering it a finger that it sucked greedily “my vengeance” he gloated over it. In that moment he felt like the little creature was his entirely, then guiltily looked at Lenore, remembering she was the one who’d actually done the hard work.

Ligur and Charu were talking her through the last stage of pushing out the placenta, it came out a few minutes later whole and undamaged. The birth was complete.

At this moment the door was flung open and Beelzebub stood on the threshold looking sternly from Hastur to Lenore. Lenore, in keeping with her attitude throughout, told Beelzebub to bugger off. Hastur looked shocked getting in between the two of them.

Beelzebub looked at Lenore, drenched in sweat, covered in blood with a high flushed complexion, smelling strongly of adrenaline and endorphins. She looked exhausted and triumphant at the same time. Beelzebub chose to ignore the insult.

“Hastur, Ligur, wash the Antichrist and get a basket, you need to take him top side. The demon stationed there will deliver him to his guardians to raise over the next eleven years up to Armageddon”.

Hastur looked horrified “it's mine, it's my vengeance, I can’t give it to that bastard, he’ll lose it”. Beelzebub looked irritated “he’s earned it, got friends in low places, if he loses the child he will pay, but your part in this is done. Get going - an’ see if you can fit in some temptations on the way, you’re well down this quarter”.

Hastur tried to give Lenore the baby again, but she shouted at him “I don’t want the little bastard, drown it in the fiery lake. Get rid of it, I hate it” and bursting into tears. Well, that was a pretty strong reaction.

He handed the Antichrist to Ligur to take off and wash. He didn't trust himself to keep hold of the child any longer, he might never want to let it go.

Gently stroking Lenore’s hair he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He wasn’t happy leaving her, wished he could stay, but figured the handover wouldn’t take long. Crowley should be waiting for them. When Ligur came back they left Lenore in the care of Charu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the following chapter were the most difficult to write and not just because they mark the ending of the story.
> 
> So, here's the thing: emotions aren't really my thing. When I get my own they feel like an inefficient distraction and quite annoying. In other people I often find them unpredictable, confusing or just a bit scary. However, the emotional stuff kinda took over this story, especially in this and the next chapter. Hopefully I've managed to tackle it ok, which I guess was part of the idea of writing this....well, that and the fact the characters kept pestering me to write them…and the sex scenes of course. Yeah, thinking about it, it's probably more about the sex scenes than anything else - just ignore my random ramblings about emotions and character development!


	49. L-Word Maggots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Vengeance, aka the Antichrist, has been sent on his way and Lenore is left alone to consider things. Hastur is technically free from the restrictions imposed during the pregnancy and can go off to Hell alone.
> 
> This chapter is more about Lenore and how she copes with the whole experience - although there are a few other revelations for both Hastur and Ligur too.
> 
> ***Trigger warning for dealing with the loss of a child***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not a ‘loss’ in the sense of bereavement - the Antichrist is still very much alive - and I know the whole pregnancy was something Lenore didn’t want, but I don’t think she could carry a child to term and give birth without it having emotional repercussions when he’s taken away: hence the ‘loss of a child’ tag.

Lenore slowly regained her composure, she was tired and wanted to sleep, she also wanted Hastur. Charu was at a loss, it shouldn’t take long to hand the child over, but he had no way of knowing when they’d be back. In the end she fell asleep without him.

It took Hastur and Ligur hours to reappear downstairs. Charu told them in hushed tones that Lenore was still asleep, for which Hastur was thankful “thought she’d be about to discorporate me by now” he confided. 

Hastur opened the viewing window and saw her sleeping, her legs still held by the stirrups. “Didn’t you think to make her comfortable?” he asked Charu crossly, who admitted to being too scared to touch her. “She kept telling everyone to piss off so I didn’t want to bother her”. 

Hastur cautiously opened the door and her eyes opened “where’s Vengeance?” was the first thing she asked. Hastur was terribly confused by the question, so she tried again “the Antichrist, where is he?” He told her they’d handed him over and she looked disappointed saying she’d have liked to at least have seen him.

He reminded her she’d told him to drown him in the fiery lake and she laughed, breaking into sobbing after a short while. “Guess I’m a bit all over after that, bit traumatic y’know” she said by way of explanation. He hugged her close and told her “you were so good, so very good, you were prefect, the Antichrist was perfect, it’s all over now pet”. 

Lenore looked at him thoughtfully saying “it isn’t all over though is it? Worlds going to end and I'm going to die”. He tried to be reassuring saying they’d got places assured in the conquering army and would ascend triumphant to glory. She laughed, which was disconcerting.

Feeling he needed to take control of the situation he asked “do you need any damage repairs pet?” She didn’t know, saying it all hurt and ached and telling him to take a look.

She was a mess, blood was still oozing from hidden damage inside. He felt guilty, remembering about human things like stitches and antiseptic. He waved a hand making the wounds knit and the blood flow back to where it came from.

She breathed a sigh of relief “guess I’m one up on most women at least. Maybe you demons have your uses”. He felt pride at her words: he’d helped, been useful.

He still felt a shy wonder at what had happened, how he’d seen his vengeance pushed out of her body right in front of him.

Hastur leaned in for a kiss and she hissed “maggots” at him just before he touched her lips. Well, if that was what she wanted, he reasoned he’d give it to her.

Maggots flowed in abundance, flooding the whole of the torments room, rising from the floor up to the ceiling, entirely surrounding her, wriggling through her hair and against her eyelids, just leaving her nose free to breath. As the swarm subsided he felt her arms grabbing tightly onto him and heard her sobbing into his chest.

He heard a cough from behind him, it was Ligur. Hastur was irritated. This was meant to be their moment. However, Lenore seemed pleased to see him, beckoning him over, pressing his head close to her bosom and continuing to sob.

After she released them she started disentangling herself from the birthing chair. He was concerned about whether she should be getting up and walking this early, but she shooed him away. “You healed all the damage remember, and I’ve been asleep for who knows how long. Where were you?”

He muttered about his contact being late and she huffed, “should set fire to the bastard” looking angry with a slight glow of hell-fire. He heartily agreed but unfortunately had been unable to do so.

The rest of the week seemed an anticlimax. He took her home where she slept a lot and ate inordinate quantities of food. She cried almost constantly and didn't even seem to cheer up when he reassured her that their glorious victory over heaven was nearly at hand. He didn’t feel he could leave her, but wasn't sure what he could do to help.

One morning she told him he should go see Ligur. “Poor demon, he’s got to have been missing you and you’re just hanging around here getting under my feet”. He wasn’t sure how he was ‘getting under her feet’, but did want some time with Ligur on his own, so left.

Ligur was pleased to see him “dragged yourself away from that bloody human have you?” he asked gruffly. Hastur was immediately on the defensive “Antichrist’s mum that is”. Ligur rolled his eyes pulling Hastur in for a kiss, “nine sodding months ya bugger”. He was still defensive “coulda come up to see us whenever you liked, not my fault you only came up a few times, Lenore likes you too”.

Ligur didn’t look too sure, so he carried on “she was always asking about you”. The message didn’t seem to be getting across. “Dint wanna spoil things with you and your precious pet”. Finally it sunk in “you’re jealous” he spat out in disgust. Ligur backtracked “nah, just missed ya, not used to you bein’ away for that long, come here”.

They snogged for a while before Ligur suggested they go ‘crash’ for a bit. He was glad to have got his Hastur back. Despite the gripes he wasn’t particularly jealous of the half-demon, but he was a bit fed up of being on his own down in Hell. He knew he could have visited more, was almost sorry he hadn’t, but he just didn’t like earth, it felt weird. He missed being able to do stuff with just the two of them as well.

Hastur told him it was Lenore who had sent him down and for that he was grateful, although he’d never admit it. The half-demon was alright. At least she wasn’t trying to keep Hastur all to herself now the birth was out of the way.

Hastur was gone for nearly two weeks in the end. When he came back up to check on Lenore, he found she wasn’t there. Charu was in the library and said she’d gone down to the pits.

“Why’d you send her down there on her own?” Charu hastened to explain that he’d had nothing to do with it. She’d announced she was going to the pits and sunk into the floor all on her own. Hastur was confused, she’d never transported herself alone before, he hadn’t even realised she could do it. He went down himself not knowing what to expect.

He was told she was working down in the lower pits, which puzzled him. She had been taking more of an interest in the torments, but he wouldn’t have expected her to take any active part. Probably she was just taking notes he thought to himself.

When he found her, Lenore was quite obviously drunk. She was also covered in Hellish stains and demonic blood and holding a poker that glowed red hot at the end. “Wanna hurt things” she confided to him in slightly slurred tones. Brontes shrugged “she’s been helping with the torments Hast, she’s a natural at it”.

Hastur was impressed with how terrifying she looked and felt a pride swelling in him as she waved the poker round, but also felt that, at some level, this wasn’t right. He gently took the poker from her suggesting they went back home so she could calm down.

She wailed “No you don’t. I’m allowed vengeance. If you lot are going to treat me like a demon I want my demon rights. Isn’t fair what you done to me. Satan put Vengeance in me, then you took him away. I want Vengeance back one way or another. It's my right to hurt things now, get my demon vengeance, get back what you took from me”.

The speech was a little confused, which reflected the confusion in her mind. Months of build up had ended abruptly. The exhaustion of the birth, the triumph and elation of it, had crashed away pretty quickly.

To begin with it had felt unreal. Like there was a mistake, like little Vengeance was still safe inside her. Then she'd wake up to the reality. He was gone. The world was going to end and nothing would ever be the same again.

Hastur had hung around not really knowing what to do or say. After a few days it had started to annoy her. She didn't want him trying to comfort her with promises of victory and fairness after the war. She wanted to put it behind her, pretend it had never happened, anything to forget the pain. She especially didn't want to think about her Vengeance being looked after by someone else. Her breasts ached with milk ready to feed the missing child. She hadn't even seen him.

The feeling of loss was compounded by guilt. She hadn't wanted him. Precious Vengeance growing inside her and all she had thought about was getting rid of him. She had looked forward to the birth, to never having to think about him again. Now she yearned to see him, hold him. Her Vengeance lost forever.

There was a confused anger building inside her. Knowing it would find an outlet somewhere, and that outpouring would most likely be violent, she had sent Hastur away. It was bad enough she was suffering without hurting him too. She also felt guilty about Ligur - she’d had Hastur for nine months and he had had to put up with it. It didn’t seem fair to try and hold on to Hastur any longer. Once alone she had drunk heavily and considered how to deal with her emotions.

She tuned into the demon senses Hastur had been nurturing in her. Tried to wrap her demonic side around her like a protective blanket. Feeling more demon than human seemed to clarify her thoughts and concentrate the anger. What had happened wasn't fair. She wanted Vengeance back, well as a demon she was owed vengeance. Vengeance for all. Vengeance for her.

With that thought she'd determined to get her right of vengeance. Grabbing a couple of bottles of brandy she'd announced she was off to the pits. That was where she would find vengeance, extract it from the demons who had hurt her. This was what she was now trying to explain to Hastur.

He had to accept she had a point. She'd had the child taken from her. She had nothing to show for all she'd gone through and he’d seen what she’d gone through. It wasn't just the insemination, which had been bad enough, but nine months of pregnancy and eleven hours of labour. It wasn't even like she wanted Armageddon.

He agreed she deserved vengeance of some description. He just wasn’t sure it should be against any demons she could lay her hands on. If she was taking that approach then she’d have to torment everyone in Hell. He admitted to himself that that would probably be a fair solution, but he didn’t think it was realistic given the available time-frame.

He had a clear sense it would be a bad idea to try to deny her anything at this point though, so suggested they find some souls in torment on whom she could safely unleash her anger. Apparently this wouldn’t do, it was demons she wanted to hurt, and when she said she wanted to hurt them she really meant it. Even Hastur was concerned at the poor buggers she’d left behind her.

Brontes said “she’s good Hast, gotta give her that. Terrifying. Wouldn’t want her working on me, but she knows her stuff. Even got a few of 'em to accept a verdict without doing anything. They just felt the energy coming off her and caved before she even touched ‘em”.

Hastur looked helplessly at her. Her hair was all over the place, she had demonic blood smudged on her face and clothes, stuff that was probably from a leaky pipe all down one side, splashes of something that was possibly mud up her trousers and a glow of unrighteous anger he hadn’t seen the like of since the fall. His pet, so pretty, so dangerous. He was proud of her, and also just a little bit scared.

She suddenly turned to him and grinned “lets go to the upper halls see if anyone wants to play”. He felt real fear grip him and a chill go down his spine, he could sense the danger emanating from her and knew she meant trouble. Taking a deep breath he said “no pet, you done enough damage, you want vengeance better start with me eh? Can’t take it out on random demons”.

She cocked her head to one side, looking into his eyes for a second before bursting into tears. He took a chance and grabbed her bodily. She didn’t resist and let him lead her up to where he could get a signal.

They reappeared in the library, Charu cringing and retreating behind a table as soon as he saw the state of Lenore. Hastur said “It’s ok, I got her” and Charu shook his head, “reckon you’re in for trouble. She’s owed vengeance for what she went through and it ain’t gonna come from the big boss is it?”

Hastur ignored him, steering Lenore out into the hall and then to the drawing room. Sitting her down he asked "what's all this about pet?"

She looked at him with tears in her eyes "I didn't want him and he's gone and now I need Vengeance back". Hastur looked at her uncomprehending. She tried again along a slightly different tack "it's what you demons do isn't it? Vengeance? Well now I can never go back to being human so I need to try and be a demon, never going to be anything else am I? You've succeeded, I'm corrupted and defiled, worse than a real demon, spoiled forever".

Hastur hugged her "you're perfect pet; clever and pretty and brave. Too good for the likes of us. You're better than all of us, miles better". She laughed "not any more. I'm broken. Can never go back. You saw it, saw the Antichrist come out of me. I'm responsible now. Little Vengeance will destroy us all and it's all my fault. I'm not clever or pretty or brave, just broken. No one could ever want me now". She started crying, angrily trying to wipe her tears away and get herself under control.

He tried to convince her "I want you pet, I'll always want you". Her answer came bitterly "you only wanted me cuz I was useful. Now Vengeance is gone and I'm useless and broken. I can't even be a proper demon, too full of stupid emotions. Look at me, I can't even stop crying. I'm useless, full of wretched emotion and you don't want me like this whatever you say".

He was horrified at the allegation "I told you I'll always want you, I'm a demon I know what 'always' means". She started laughing through the tears "I should believe you cuz you're a demon? You told me 'demons don't care', you don't care. There's nothing left, it's all over". The laughing stopped but the tears still fell. She looked utterly miserable. He was getting very concerned.

Hastur sat back and reached out to her saying "take my hands pet, look at me". He pulled her round to face him "go on, try and get what I'm feeling, tune into it". She sighed "tried that before, you're a blank sweetheart". He said seriously "I've let the blockers down now, not let anyone do this before pet, well apart from Ligur but he’s different. I want you to do it now though".

Lenore looked at him and tried to sense what he was feeling. She got the same void as before to begin with, but, as she persevered, there was something else. Something that swirled around elusively, just as it felt like she'd got it pinned down it would wriggle away. That was it: something wriggling or squirming, warm and alive, a joyful happy something trying to find a way out.

She stopped crying more out of surprise than anything else. Finally she said wonderingly "you got maggots, L-word maggots". He looked embarrassed, flushing a dark red and looking at the floor "yeah, reckon I caught them from you pet. Don't tell anyone".

"But you said demons couldn't, y'know" she stopped confused how to continue. He looked confused too "not meant to be able to, dunno how it happened. Apparently Ligur's got 'em too. He said he'd had them ages, so I got a double dose, must be how they got in. I ain't telling anyone else in case they take them away again. I like maggots".

Lenore smiled: "I like maggots too". She realised she was exhausted. The past few days were a blur. It had seemed so clear, the perfect solution to deal with the gaping hole inside her. Fill the emotional void with vengeance, make others suffer for her pain. It had made so much sense.

Now it was like waking up from a dream. The clarity fell away and she realised it was never going to work. It was the demon solution. Pass the pain and suffering on, get vengeance, get even and everything will be alright...

Only it won't be, or not for her. She didn't think Armageddon was going to solve Hell's problems either. She was far from certain vengeance would even work for Hastur. He'd admitted himself that he could never go back, never be an angel again, would hurting the other angels really make him ok with what had happened?

Maybe it would work for him, but her human instinct told her healing was to be found within and couldn't be bought about by external vengeance. Nurturing the pain and hate inside, refusing to let it go, building your entire world around the concept of revenge.... vengeance.... spending six thousand years waiting for a war to heal the hurt and 'make it fair'.... no, it didn't feel right.

Annoyingly she knew this meant she would have to think about what had happened and accept the feelings. It was going to hurt and it would take time. Not as long as six thousand years, but a while. It wasn't as dramatic as a war, but it might actually work.

At least she wasn't alone now. What she'd sensed in Hastur, the little cluster of writhing L-word maggots, gave her hope. Her and Hastur and Ligur each with their own maggots, together until the end of the world and maybe beyond. She could live with that.

With that revelation she let him take her up to bed and persuade her into the shower before she slept. Too tired to think things through any further, but hopeful for the future at last, she slept deeply.

Hastur was indeed confused at the L-word revelation, he was also more than a little embarrassed. It had been Ligur’s fault. They’d got to discussing Lenore. Ligur kept calling her a ‘half-demon’ which he quite liked the sound of, but then worried about the L-word. If she was half demon then would she still feel it? He liked sensing the L-word from her, it was comforting and made him happy.

When he told Ligur he’d laughed at him. Hastur had been cross and would likely have started a fight until Ligur had told him why he thought it was funny - Ligur had got the L-word too.

Hastur didn’t believe him at first, demanded to feel for himself. This was difficult territory. Demons didn’t trust each other, didn’t usually even like each other and letting another demon reach out and sense your thoughts and emotions was unheard of.

Eventually they’d agreed to lower their mental blockers together. Vulnerability wasn’t as bad if you both did it at the same time.

What they’d sensed had been a bit of a revelation to both of them. As well as the cold, calculating hate and hot, fiery anger he expected to find in Ligur’s mind he’d sensed something else.

It felt very much like his first taste of the L-word from Lenore - wriggly and a little bit itchy, but very pleasant when you got used to it. He was perplexed. This shouldn’t be possible, demons didn’t…y’know.

Then Ligur told him he’d got it too. He was shocked at first, convinced Ligur was lying, but then why would he? It made sense he guessed, he’d been feeling a bit strange on and off since he’d got his pet. Especially during the pregnancy and birth when he’d been so emotional, so proud of her, so happy. If Ligur had L-word maggots too then he’d been exposed twice, so it wasn’t surprising they’d found a way in eventually.

He was immediately worried. What if anyone found out? He was sure Satan would do something to take them away. Being infested with L-word maggots wasn’t very demonic. It might affect their performance in the war too. Maybe they should try to get rid of them before any permanent damage could be done.

Ligur reassured him that it wouldn’t be a problem. He admitted his own maggots had always been there and it hadn’t stopped him from being a proper demon. He had thought it had been related to how he arrived in Hell. God hadn’t taken the L-word from him as he didn’t really fall, or not the same way the other demons had anyway.

Ligur told Hastur he was happy they both had them now, just don’t tell anyone else and it would be fine. That was good as Hastur wanted to keep the feelings: they were warm and comforting. The two demons had agreed on that and resumed kissing.

Maybe She hadn’t taken the L-word away from the demons after all. Just made them think She had. That would be a nasty mean trick and just like Her, totally unfair. However, maybe if demons could get over the paranoia, hate and need for vengeance they could all get the L-word back.

It was a disturbing thought to Hastur. Hell would be a very different place if demons started liking each other. Would it even be Hell any more? Maybe, once the war was over, the other demons would be willing to give it a try. That would be ni….

Hastur stopped mid-thought, shocked at himself for thinking like a human. Demons weren’t nice. Even if they could have the L-word it would have to be a special, evil sort of L-word. It certainly wouldn't be ‘nice’ like humans, with all their stupid ‘romance’ and caring and stuff.

He shuddered. Cautiously he probed his mind looking for any signs of niceness. He could feel the little cluster of wayward maggots squirming around inside him now, but nothing else had changed. He was still evil. That was ok then.

He settled down to keep an eye on Lenore while she rested. He liked watching her. The knowledge that she was his made the little knot of L-word maggots squirm about. It felt good. The more evil part of his mind shifted to thinking about torments...now she wasn't pregnant all things were possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My musings on demons' natures seems to have got more important in the story - but it’s how the experience has changed the protagonists that I was most interested in. None of them are exactly the same as they were at the beginning - although I don’t think they have changed excessively either - I mean Hastur is still evil after all ….interested in any views…


	50. For "Training Purposes”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having calmed Lenore down and let her sleep off the excesses of the last couple of weeks Hastur’s evil side comes to the fore and he thinks about torments. Lenore is happy to oblige him….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit this is pure indulgence on my part - one last trip to the pits for Hastur to have fun with his ‘pet’. It’s also a demonstration (I hope) of how they’ve grown over the course of the story. Hastur still pushes and Lenore still needs to learn to say ‘no’, but I think they’ve improved! As you’d expect it’s a bit extreme so if you don’t like whips and blood look away now…… although it’s tagged and I doubt you’ll have read this far if you don’t like this sort of stuff…

In the morning Lenore woke to see Hastur sat watching her intently. She'd got used to this odd behaviour during the pregnancy so wasn't phased by it. After the excesses of the last couple of weeks she felt a lot calmer.

Getting up, she pottered around, washing, putting on clean clothes, brushing her hair. Suddenly she asked "how long have we got?"

Hastur was confused "forever" he said. Lenore sighed "I meant: how long until Armageddon?"

He replied it would be about eleven years, but after that they'd have forever. "Still don't understand why you lot are so optimistic, what happens if the other side win?" He was smug and confident "they won't, we're going to win this time and then nothing will ever be unfair again".

Lenore realised she was dealing with a hopeless case so didn't argue, taking his hand and kissing it instead. He was looking at her, but refusing to make eye contact and fidgeting in his seat. Sighing she asked him what the matter was.

He was hesitant "y'know how you're not pregnant?" She nodded, so he continued "so that means all them rules don't apply any more right?" She nodded again.

He hesitated and she asked him again what it was. Finally he blurted out "wanna hurt you pet". Lenore appeared to be delighted by this, asking "properly?"

Hastur nodded, still amazed that she let him do this to her, wanted him to even. Then she asked "here or in the pits?" and his eyes went totally black and wide as saucers. "You'll let me take you to the pits?" He asked. She was shy now, saying quietly "only if you want to".

Needless to say they ended up going down to the pits. She said they needed to speak to Brontes first. Hastur didn’t understand why but agreed nonetheless. She asked Brontes for a stamped work docket for one of the recently refurbished torments rooms for 'training purposes'.

Brontes looked from her to Hastur and grinned knowingly "training purposes it is then, there you go. 113 is free". He gave the docket to Lenore, somewhat to Hastur’s surprise, but he supposed she was the one who’d been working down here, not him. It was a strange thought.

It turned out 113 was the room Balam had found them in all that time ago. Lenore thought it was romantic. Hastur shook his head "you're weird". Once inside though she was nervous, looking at the restraints on the high backed frame and back to Hastur, hugging her arms round herself and finally looking at the floor. "Hey, you ok pet?" he asked.

She tried to explain "it's been a while since we've done this, don't know if I'll cope". Hastur tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. "Don't worry pet, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You've got your word too, remember? You’re in control here".

He stroked her hair and kissed her gently. "Come on, lets have a look at the whips" he put his arm round her and guided her towards a cabinet, away from the apparatus.

He wanted to hurt her so desperately, damage his perfect pet. Hear her beg and scream for him. He was curious to find out whether her new demonic powers would change anything too. If she projected her emotions how much sweeter would the pain and submission taste?

He also didn't want to do anything to upset her, and not just because she could now discorporate him. It felt almost like the beginning of the relationship again, when he had to feel his way, test her reactions at each step and try so hard to hold himself back.

He was craving it so badly and the delicate situation was so exciting. He took a breath in, mustn't rush her. He remembered he needed her absolute, willing agreement to make it work properly.

Hastur picked up one of the less frightening looking whips, letting it trail down. He said "we can do some actual training y'know. Come on, you hold it and I'll guide your hand".

He gave her the whip, coming round behind her and holding her hand up. He guided her into making a couple of experimental strokes with it, then let her go, saying "aim at the middle of the frame, where your back would be".

Lenore tried a few times, hitting nowhere near the area she was aiming for. Again he took hold of her hand giving her a slow motion demonstration saying "go on, have another go". This time she was more successful, even so she couldn't hit the same spot reliably. He said "it's not as easy as it looks is it?" She shook her head.

He took the whip off her giving it a few deceptively simple flicks and hitting the same spot with an apparent minimum of effort. She smiled at him "you're good" he looked pleased but just muttered about it being a matter of practice.

He tried to hand it back to her, but she didn't take it saying "you can try it on me if you want". He was unsure "you don't have to y'know", but she was determined and started undressing.

He had an idea, a way to try and keep her calm. He'd have to be very careful, as he could really damage her if he got carried away, but he thought he could manage it. He turned her to face him.

"Try it this way round pet, you can see the damage then, stop me whenever you want". He lifted her arms to the cuffs, adding "I'd like to see your face too, you're so pretty when you cry for me".

As her arms were secured Lenore felt apprehensive, the fear was building and she really wasn’t sure whether this was a good idea. Hastur was so obviously keen though, and she wanted to please him so much.

She also remembered how awful she’d felt when the pregnancy had prevented her from doing this, from being his pet properly and completely. It was as if something important had been taken away from her and she wanted to get it back now, even if it was scary.

Hastur could see she was still a bit nervous, so he just kissed her for a while, stroking her softly. "You're going to be ok pet, I know you can do this".

She felt his words washing over her, making her warm and giving her confidence. She relaxed a little, trying to lean into his touches, enjoying the contact. As the calmness descended she again felt a desire to submit, to allow him to take over her senses, make her his.

Hastur felt her give in to him. He’d missed this feeling so much, her unspoken invitation for him to take control of her felt amazing. He stepped back into position and said "nod if you're ok", which she did.

He told her "hold still for me" before he twitched his hand and sending the whip in a flick across her thighs. She shouted loudly and he was at her side shushing her. "You're ok pet, you're gonna be fine. I’ll take it slow, stop me if you need to".

He stood back and delivered a second, eliciting another shout. He was by her side again. "Going to strap your ankles pet, don't want you moving around". He crouched down guiding her into the cuffs.

Once secured he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh playing with her briefly. "Nice and wet for me aren't you? Good demon slut". Lenore felt thrills of arousal shooting down her at his words. Trapped and helpless before him, he could do anything he wanted now. Inside her head the thought that she was his entirely resonated round and round. She really wanted this now.

Hastur marvelled again at how good his pet was. She was projecting her emotions more strongly than before and they tasted incredible. She was definitely aroused, definitely reacted more intensely when he called her a 'demon slut', but he could still sense her fear. She was doing well to try and hide it though. It was so exhilarating.

The third swipe went higher than the previous two and hurt more. She shouted again. He hummed before adding a fourth that crossed the third and almost made her scream. She looked down and saw red lines, no broken skin, but raised and sore looking.

"See, you're ok pet" he said. "We can take a break if you like. Tell me what you want pet". Lenore felt the buzz from him, his so obvious enjoyment of her pain, it overrode her misgivings. Looking up from the marks on her thighs she said quietly "please, don't stop".

He was hit by the wave of desire from her and smiled, when she said ‘please’ it was almost too much, too good. His smile widened as he followed up with another stroke of the whip, this time across her stomach.

That hurt more and she felt the tears in her eyes as she yelled out. She looked up and saw him still smiling at her as she tried to control her breathing though the pain.

"Good pet, you're ok aren't you?" he asked, waiting for her nod before doing another two in quick succession landing across her stomach again. She was pulling against the cuffs round her wrists and trying to twist away.

He thought he'd better set a limit or he would never want to stop. Having her facing him, seeing her tears form and run down from eyes screwed up against the pain was so beautiful. She was getting a bit panicked now though, he needed to reassure her so she would let him continue.

He was next to her, stroking her hair and kissing away her tears. "Another five left pet, you'll be good for me won't you?" She nodded. “Don’t forget to say if you need a break, I’m listening to you”.

He was so reassuring, so calm and kind, she wanted to be ‘good’ for him so badly. The pain was making her emotions intensify. She could also feel his barely suppressed eagerness to continue, how he was trying so hard to keep himself under control for her. He appreciated her so much, was so grateful to her for this, it sent thrills through her.

The next two were on her thighs again, across the lines he'd already made and she sobbed at the pain. Looking down she was surprised there was only a little blood. He kept count for her saying "three to go pet" a further two lashed across her stomach in quick succession and she did scream, looking down and seeing red welts and broken skin. 

His voice was soft and persuasive, each syllable sending ripples of longing towards her. "Last one pet, tell me you want it, say please". She screwed up her eyes against the stinging pain and said between panting breaths "please Hastur, please".

The whip cracked and she felt a sharp burning pain across her middle. The blow caught her on the pubic mound and she screamed then glared at him. "Not fair" she gasped out and he laughed. 

He'd done them too quickly, set too tight a limit. She hadn't said her word though, so he could continue. He needed to give her a break though.

His senses were flooded with the smell of her blood and the scent of fear and pain. He was getting a strong undercurrent of lust too. He needed to feed that, make sure she wanted to carry on. He really didn't want to stop now.

Hastur kissed her again running his hand gently over the welts making her gasp. He inserted a finger into her then, humming approval, a second moving them in and out quickly making her moan.

"Little slut, you're loving this aren't you?" He kissed her hard, preventing her from answering. His fingers and the kisses felt really good and she tried to push into him for more, loving the way he could control her reactions so easily, wanting to prove her submission to him.

Hastur pulled back looking at her with an evil smile "shall we turn you round now, do some proper damage?" She nodded, feeling hypnotised, buzzing with lust and desire, desperate to feel his power over her, be totally under his control.

She felt the cuffs on her ankles released and he was up and guiding her round to face away from him. He kissed her face murmuring "pretty pet" before going down to finish securing her in place.

"I think we'll try a different one this time" she took a sharp breath in and he hastened to reassure her "I'll show you before we start pet, don't worry, and don't forget your word" with that he was off to the cabinet again.

So many to choose from. He wanted to try all of them, not stop until her screams could be heard even in the upper halls. His hand was shaking and he felt lust washing over him.

He'd really missed this, the sense of power, the rush when she forced herself to stay still, stay calm while he did this. He needed to set himself a limit again. Taking a deep breath he chose just one.

She shivered slightly, the welts on her front were burning hot, but her now exposed back felt a draft. She could hear Hastur moving around behind her, then suddenly he was right by her with a long, thin whip in his hand. "I'll do three sets of four, give you a rest between them, it'll break the skin pet, should have you screaming properly".

His hand stroked her back reassuringly. "Ok for me to start?" She was already feeling floaty from the endorphins after the first set of lashes. His voice was calm and quiet, but she could feel the suppressed excitement behind it. She wanted to do this for him and felt more confident in her ability to endure it. Feeling a thrill run through her she nodded giving him permission to begin.

There it was again, her agreement, her willingness to submit to him. She was still in pain from the first set, knew these would be worse, yet she just agreed to go ahead. This was what he'd been craving for the last nine months, he needed her surrender. It was addictive.

It seemed a long time before the first lashes fell. The pain was hot and sharp and she struggled and was screaming by the end of the first set. He was talking into her ear again "you're being so good pet, two more sets to go, you're bleeding a bit now, but you'll be ok. Be good for me". 

Oh she wanted to be 'good' for him, be his pet again, so very, very much. She could feel the desire flowing from him, his appreciation of her, his need to continue.

Her senses were overloaded, his half-drunken rush of power and longing to hurt her mixed together with her own pain and lust and need. Every time he spoke she felt thrills running down her, she didn't want this to stop. At the same time she wasn't sure how much more she could endure. 

He stepped back and the pain started again, by the last of the second set she really did want it to just stop. She shook her head and he stopped nervously. He didn’t want to stop, but he could tell she was near her limit.

“It’s ok pet, I don’t have to start again yet, just relax”. He waited anxiously until she had relaxed slightly before he came to her side again. "So pretty, so good, you've done so well. We can stop if you want" she shook her head.

"You want to carry on?" He could hardly believe it when she nodded. She was so good for him. He had been right too, all those months of not being able to do this, of having to control his desires, had enabled him to keep control now, prolong things and really enjoy it. He growled his appreciation before saying "last set now pet. Be good for me, say ‘please’"

She felt it would be alright, she could cope. For him. She whispered out ‘please’ and felt the wave of lust from him at the word.

This set was worse, the pain was intense from each individual stroke, but the area where it hurt widened out to cover most of her back. Her thighs and stomach also hurt and she was sagging by the cuffs shouting and begging him to stop. Last set complete she breathed a sigh of relief.

Hastur ran his hand down her back enjoying the way she flinched as he touched her. "You're not going to scratch are you?" She asked nervously.

Despite his new sense of self control he very nearly lost it when she said that, feeling overwhelmed by the suggestion, thinking how much it would hurt her, longing to hear the screams. The idea was really frightening to her though. He didn't think she'd let him, not yet anyway and he didn't want to spoil it.

He grinned asking hopefully "do you want me to?" She emphatically didn't. He hastened to reassure her "it's ok, I won't scratch unless you want me to".

He stroked again, more firmly this time causing her to cry out. He leaned against her, crushing her painfully between his body and the apparatus.

He didn't want to stop hurting her. Wanted to possess her, control her senses, her reactions, make her entirely his. He kept contact, pressing into her so every breath she took would hurt as she was rubbed against his clothes.

His hand on her hip he growled softly "wanna hurt you some more pet is that ok? You’ve been so good, so very good, we could stop..." he waited, hoping she'd agree.

He knew exactly how much this would hurt, knew it would only be the protective hexes that would stop unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be the first time and he needed it so badly.

Lenore was in pain, front and back, Hastur was pressed so hard into her she could hardly breathe. His scent overpowered her and his hand on her hip was making her tremble with desire. She felt overwhelmed.

When he asked for more, told her how good she’d been, she felt herself floating high with euphoria. Of course she agreed. She would probably have agreed to anything at this stage.

Hastur was pleased and disappeared back to the cabinet. When he came back she felt him pressing against her again and whimpered half in pain half from desire. "Just one more then we're done, it's a nasty one, but you done it before, be good pet".

She could hear a rattling noise and was confused, he'd said 'done it before', but wasn’t sure what he meant. "Wait" she said, suddenly not sure of herself. She needed to try to think clearly, to understand what she was agreeing to before he proceeded.

At her words Hastur seemed to freeze. She hadn't even used the word but he had stopped and was listening while she considered. The fact he didn’t want to do anything unless she agreed gave her confidence. After a deep breath in she continued to speak "I need to know what you're going to do first".

He seemed to understand and explained “you remember the last time we were here, you did it then pet. The hexes will keep you conscious, but I'll only do it if you say yes. Just think about it, it's up to you".

She knew what he meant now and was scared. Trying to clear her mind through the haze of lust and longing, pain and fear, she calmed herself. She’d done it before and it had hurt so very much, but she was sure she could do it again.

He only had to wait a few seconds before she had decided, she wanted him to continue. Whispering “yes” she felt his lust and elation washing over her in waves, it felt so good.

He instructed her "deep breath in pet" and she obeyed without thinking then felt the same crashing agony she'd felt the last time she'd been in this torments room. Her focus sharpened and she found she was making loud cries with each breath out. Her legs wouldn't hold her so her weight was taken by the cuffs. 

Hastur was next to her in an instant "oh my pet, you're such a good pet, you really do let me do anything I want. So pretty, so good". She continued shaking and crying feeling sick and dizzy, as he cooed at her gently stroking her face.

He meant every word. Her reactions were everything he'd hoped for, everything he'd longed for. She was his pet and he was so proud of her.

The pain was still raw when she forced some words out "want to see the marks this time". This seemed to please him and she saw a mirror appear to the side of the apparatus she was strapped to. Being suddenly confronted by her own tear stained face was a bit disconcerting. 

When the mirror appeared behind her and she saw the state her back was in, she was shocked. There was a criss-cross of red welts, but over and above this was a pattern of individual tears into the skin that were oozing blood. There was a lot of blood.

Hastur looked nervous, she was still trembling and wincing at the pain, but managed to smile at him.

He bought the whip round for her inspection. The handle was plaited leather with multiple tails of smaller plaits coming off from it. It was quite long and at intervals along the plaits small white hard bits were woven in.

"Bone scourge" he told her, a big grin on his face. "Hurts" was all she said in response. He poked at her back causing her to yelp in pain. "Don't touch, you bloody sadist" she shouted and he grinned. 

Time to reward her he thought. His hand went down touching her pussy and sneaking a finger inside. “You want me to touch you here though don’t you my little demon slut?”

He hissed in her ear “so wet for me, you like all this really”, she whimpered in response. He put in a second finger and bought his other hand round her front. He brushed the welts across her stomach making her push back into him, which in turn hurt her back and she sobbed loudly.

He shushed her, moving his hand down to touch her clit. He was moving in a steady rhythm now and she rocked slightly to meet him, her back and front still burning, but the overriding sensation was of pleasure. He whispered into her ear again “are you gonna cum for me?” She moaned in response, as he continued working steadily.

She was radiating lust now. No fear, riding high over the waves of pain so they almost faded into the background. He put his thoughts into words “You made so much noise, but see how wet you are, tell me you like it, little slut”.

She pulled against the restraints feeling herself cumming against his hand “like it” she cried out as her orgasm hit. He hummed happily in her ear feeling her clenching round his fingers.

He undid her ankle and wrist restraints, guiding her so she was sat on the chair. "See if you can heal it yourself, pet, go on: concentrate" he instructed her.

As her orgasm died away she felt again the stinging burning sensation all over her. She was shaken and tearful, feeling sick and dizzy. She shook her head "no, I can't, I’m in too much pain". However he insisted "you gotta learn and any time you gotta do it you'll be in pain".

Lenore tried to concentrate, looking down at the red welts on her front. She touched one of the marks on her thigh and it did seem to get fainter. She tried again.

Eventually she'd managed to remove most of the marks on her front. There was still some residual bruising but she was almost clear. Unfortunately, she was also exhausted.

"Can't do any more Hastur, so tired" and she did, in fact, yawn at this point. He knelt in front of her stroking the now uninjured area."You did well pet. I'm impressed".

He was impressed. He was also hungry for more. She'd been so good, so compliant, let him really hurt her, but his mind kept going back to her mention of scratches. The idea was making him tremble with lust and anticipation.

She hadn't said her word, had let him do everything else, maybe she would agree. He reasoned there was no harm in asking. She was glowing from the exertion, tired from doing unaccustomed demonic miracles, had put up with so much already that he wasn't sure if it was fair to ask her now. But he wanted it so much.

She'd assumed he was going to heal the rest now, but once he'd guided her to her feet and turned her away from him he stopped, taking a step back. "Aren't you going to fix me?" She asked. He didn't say anything so she said: "admiring the mess you made?" Still silence.

Turning to look she saw he was smiling, a wide, hungry-looking and definitely evil smile. He growled at her "you sure you don't want me to scratch?" He flexed his fingers just showing the sharp points of his demonic claws starting to manifest.

A thrill of fear ran through her, followed by a bolt of lust. "You didn't say no" he observed getting closer to her.

She felt a wave of longing hit her. It would hurt so much, but she couldn’t lose consciousness in here and something about the idea of submitting to this, letting him do so much damage was really exciting. She turned away from him and held onto the support in front of her, nodding and holding her breath.

She felt the intense blast of euphoria from him and then the pain ripped through her and she sank to her knees screaming "deal" as she did so.

Hastur stopped mid-scratch but still felt so triumphant. The way she offered herself to him was wonderful. He’d felt her submission, felt the thrill that had run through her as she had turned for him to scratch.

He had waves of ecstasy crashing through him. This was what he needed, what he craved. Better than alcohol, better than sex, better than anything he'd felt since the fall. His pet let him feel this. She was amazing. He felt warm and happy; a squirming mass of almost painful emotion threatening to burst out of him.

She felt herself being lifted up onto the seat again and, through the swimming colours and blotches of darkness floating in front of her eyes, she saw Hastur watching her. She giggled, keeping laughing until she had to gasp for breath. "It's ok pet, breath with me, come on" 

Hastur had learned the technique from the childbirth textbooks, but it worked. He waited until she was in control again and smiled at her. This time he simply looked happy "you're so good for me pet, so brave, so pretty". He put his arms around her holding on tight. She realised the pain had gone, he’d healed her.

He kissed her face, licking away any tears. Having her face licked started her giggling again "what are you doing you strange creature?" She asked. He answered defensively "demons can drink human tears, perfectly demonic thing to do that is".

She giggled again, but he looked so offended that she took a deep breath and tried to stop. She kissed him instead, slowly and deeply feeling his arms locked tight around her the whole time. She felt an intense wave of emotion, of love, bursting out of her and she thought she felt the same from him too, before he started dissolving into maggots all around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> ….and so that is the end! Well I have written a ‘bonus’ next chapter set well after this, but this is the end of the story I set out to write. Hastur and Ligur have delivered the Antichrist and, by now, so has Crowley - the real story has begun. The Antichrist’s mum has survived the experience and Hastur has found maggots (of the L-word variety). Personally I’d say he’d already got ‘em, same as Ligur, but after six thousand years denying it was possible it took lot to let him see that. Comments/thoughts are welcome if you want to say hi.
> 
> I’m sad to have finished this - but I have another piece I’m working on that might turn into a long story (although no sex in it atm) will have to see how it goes.


	51. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the failed Armageddon with special guest appearances by Aziraphale and Crowley. Also introducing a little spawn all of their own for Hastur and Lenore.
> 
> Time to see how things developed over the 11+ years since the Antichrist was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn’t resist writing a bit of a continuation, but I haven’t done any more than just this one chapter. I had a bit of fun with it - no sex, just silliness…..

After the non-apocalypse…..

In a bookshop somewhere in Soho an angel and a demon sat drinking steadily. They were involved in a long, complicated, semi-argument that neither could remember the start of, or for that matter what it was about and which side of it they were meant to be on.

"What I mean is, well, I mean it's ok right? It's ok to be n'angel and not be in heaven. Bein' 'an angel is a *good* thing see, no one wants to be a demon though do they?" Said the redhead. 

"N..n..n..nnno s'not so, no" stuttered his blond companion "people say: ohhh, look at him, he's a demon at......at that thing, that thing he's really good at, he's a demon at it he is. Means being really good at something see?"

He reached for the bottle and attempted to top up his glass, only to find that no matter how much he tipped the bottle nothing was coming out. "S'empty Crowley. I drunk I thinked it all" he said sadly shaking his head, a serious look on his face.

Crowley shook his head in sympathy, "think there's some in this one" he said unsteadily offering the blond a half full bottle.

A beautiful smile lit up his face as he took the proffered bottle. Adopting a concentrated expression he held out his glass and poured wine carefully onto the floor next to it. "Oh dear" he said looking at the puddle.

Crowley laughed alarmingly "ha ha ha, it's the 'demon drink' haha" Aziraphale wasn't paying attention so he tried again. "Azira.. Azira... I said it's the 'demon drink' doesn't like you cuz you're n'angel".

Aziraphale was not so amused, still looking sadly at the pool of lost wine dripping slowly through the floorboards and shaking his head. "Think I might need to sober up".

"Yeah, alright, me too" confirmed his companion.

They were still getting used to the sudden absence of alcohol when a bell sounded. "Wassat?" Crowley groaned. "Oh, it must be a customer" Aziraphale replied, surprised.

He was, in fact, very surprised. The 'closed' sign had been up and the door had been locked. It couldn't be a casual customer, equally a burglar probably wouldn't ring the bell. Strange. Better go and see he thought. As he was starting to get up Crowley hissed "I smell something demonic, stay there".

In the end they both went, Crowley a little in front. What they found surprised them. It was a woman. Human, as far as they could tell, but with a definite demonic resonance. She was tallish, with long dark hair and a very determined look on her face.

"I need your help" she said on seeing Crowley. "Errr, did you want Aziraphale, it's his shop, y'see I don't really do the whole ‘helping people’ thing".

The woman didn't answer but took a stop closer saying "Crowley is it?" He was really alarmed "how'd you know th..." he didn't get any further. The woman grabbed his arm and produced a knife. Before either he or Aziraphale had time to react she'd sliced neatly down his arm and soaked a square of cloth the size of a pocket handkerchief in his blood.

Aziraphale was probably in shock because the only thing he said was "see Crowley, they do still use pocket handkerchiefs".

Crowley was a bit quicker on the uptake, pulling his arm back and using a miracle to heal the cut. He took a step towards the woman, but before he could reach her he felt the discordant static of demonic energy and found himself trapped.

"What exactly is going on here?" Aziraphale asked petulantly when he found himself similarly stuck. Crowley was paying attention to the woman now and saw a certain raised mark on her arm that he definitely recognised. "Hastur?!" He half asked, half shouted.

She didn't look up, but said "hopefully he'll be here soon. Bastard buggered off leaving me to deal with everything. Need your blood to lure him back. He's got himself insulated against normal summoning, need to get his attention somehow, reckon he’ll come if he smells your blood in the circle".

She said all this in a calm level voice as she pulled back the carpet and began chalking a circle with a series of symbols around the outside. "Try to stay still, you're wasting my energy wriggling about like that" she snapped at Aziraphale who immediately stood stock still, looking guilty.

Crowley was too stunned to move and looked hopelessly confused. It got worse when she produced some candles and lit them with hell-fire from her fingertips. He got as far as saying "but you're human, I can tell you're human" before she looked at him with glowing eyes and said "shush". He looked at Aziraphale who shook his head, neither had any idea what was happening.

The blood soaked cloth was put in the centre of the circle and, everything apparently in place, she stood back. Looking at her two captives she advised "if this works he isn't going to be happy, you might want to make a quick exit" then proceeded with a stream of weird sounding syllables.

There was a hum of static and a flash of green light before a figure appeared in the circle. This time it really was Hastur, and she was right, he didn't look happy.

As she went to scuff the circle Crowley tried to stop her "no, no, no, no, you don't know what he's like, he'll kill you". Too late, the trapped energy dissipated. Finding he too was free to move Crowley tried to push the human to safety away from Hastur. Hastur had other ideas. He lunged at Crowley shouting "get your hands off her".

Crowley grabbed a glass of water up from the table, which appeared to alarm Hastur considerably and he backed into the corner. "Yeah, you know what this is don't you?" Crowley said confidently.

Hastur still looked very angry, but also unsure of himself. "You're bluffing, no one has holy water just lying around" he said uncertainly.

Crowley grinned nodding towards Aziraphale "see him, he's an angel, now one thing angels are good at is blessing stuff, do it all the time, bless this, bless that, bless the other, bless the water even" he said meaningfully taking a step closer to Hastur who put his hands up defensively.

"Let him go" said the woman. "Oh no, you reeeally don't want that, believe me, you'll thank me later" Crowley said in her direction without turning. "Let him go now" she said again. Crowley was still waving the glass of water in Hastur's direction and ignored her.

Next thing he heard was his angel saying in a high squeak "Crowley dear boy, I really think you should let him go. Now!" The last word was almost a scream.

Crowley turned slightly to see what was happening. The strange woman had Aziraphale pinned down on the counter, she was half sitting on top of him and held a knife. "Just get rid of her" Crowley hissed at him flapping his free hand while trying to keep the water glass aimed at Hastur.

"She's human, I can't hurt humans" the angel said desperately. The woman smiled at Crowley, she dug her knee into Aziraphale's back in just the right place and his wings flew out. She said "sorry angel". Aziraphale, so addressed, said "oh, it's quite alright my dear" without thinking.

At this she grabbed his wings roughly at the point they joined his shoulders and bought the knife down resting it against him. She now had Crowley’s full attention and hissed at him in a low menacing voice "if you damage so much as one little maggot I'll cut tinkerbell here's wings off and shove them so far down your throat you shit feathers for a month. Let. Him. Go".

Aziraphale decided to help the decision making process "I think the knife is cursed, you really ought to do what she says". Crowley gave up with a bad grace, throwing the glass on the floor and watching as the plain, non-holy water pooled harmlessly.

The woman let Aziraphale go, growling "I already said sorry" as she did so. Hastur, now freed, lunged towards the woman and grabbed her, half dissolving into maggots as he did so. Crowley winced, turning away, well, he had warned her.

He looked back when he heard Aziraphale's voice saying "aren't you going to introduce me?" He saw the woman was still alive and Hastur was back to his normal shape looking, if anything, a little sheepish. "This is my PA" he said by way of explanation.

Crowley was incredulous, his brain couldn't cope with this. "You have a PA?" was all he could think of saying. Hastur swaggered slightly "yeah, why? Don't you?" He said, like having a PA was a totally normal thing for a demon.

The woman spoiled his nonchalance slightly by saying "Acting Duke of Hell actually, I'm on secondment". She held a hand out to Aziraphale saying "Lenore. Pleased to meet you. Oh, and I really am sorry about earlier".

"Oh no, that's quite alright, no problem. I'm Aziraphale, nice to make your acquaintance".

Crowley wasn't sure what was happening, it just didn't make sense. A human had just used demonic powers to attack him, then used his blood to summon Hastur and, when he tried to protect her, she'd threatened to hurt Aziraphale with a cursed knife and now, apparently, she was Hastur's PA on secondment as an acting Duke of Hell.

He went for the obvious question first: "how'd you get a secondment to a Dukedom, that's gotta be advertised externally and it hasn't been on the job boards". All three entities turned to stare at him.

Lenore recovered first "why've you been checking Hell's job boards?"

Crowley squirmed, "well, just keeping an eye on things, that's all, I'm not looking for a job if that's what you think. No, no, no. No thank you, not working for Hell anymore, not working at all, and that suits me just fine". He looked very guilty. 

Aziraphale remembered that was what they'd been arguing about, half arguing anyway. Crowley was bored, he clearly wanted something to do with himself, but didn't want to work for Hell again for obvious reasons.

He'd been trying to tell him you didn't need to work for Hell just because you were a demon. You could be something else, anything else, a bee-keeper maybe or a bus driver. Those two pretty weird examples had been shot down quite quickly and the argument had progressed from there. Point was: he knew Crowley did want a job and being unemployed didn't suit him 'just fine'.

Hastur was the next to recover. He wasn't interested in Hell's job boards, or in Crowley. "What do you mean 'acting Duke of Hell'?"

Lenore sighed "who did you think was going to run the office with you gone?" Hastur said grumpily "thought Ligur was back". Lenore rolled her eyes "yeah, as an angel Hastur, can't have an angel as a Duke of Hell, no-one would take him seriously".

Crowley interjected "an' demons take you seriously? You're human for Satan’s sake!" He looked at Hastur as if he expected support, but the demon was backing away looking nervous.

The human said in a deceptively reasonable tone of voice. "Now, I know you're not the brightest demon around so I'm gonna cut you a bit of slack here. Yes: I am still partly human, but I'm also more demon than you've ever been".

Crowley took a few involuntary steps backwards as the human started glowing red with hell-fire. Her hair was starting to stand up on it's ends with an alarming fizz of static and the occasional blue spark grounded itself against the ceiling of the bookshop.

"Let's try the introductions again" she said grinning widely and holding a hand out. It glowed red hot and was surrounded by flashes of lightning. She continued "hi, my name is Lenore, Duke of Hell, and you are?"

She stepped in closer, trying to force him to take the proffered hand. Crowley felt touching that hand would be a very bad idea, probably the last idea he'd have in this corporation. "Ngk, Hell's meant to be leaving me alone" he managed to squeak out.

Hastur unexpectedly came to the rescue "leave him alone pet, you know what Beelzebub said". Crowley wasn't sure what to say. Hastur seemed to have saved him.

Aziraphale cut in "well, thank you Hastur, it's been lovely seeing you and meeting your er PA er acting Duke of Hell, Lenore, yes. But I think you'd better be going now. The shop is closed". He finished up, as if the shop being open or closed was likely to matter.

Lenore answered angrily "not going anywhere until he takes his turn. It's not fair him buggering off like this just cuz it's his turn". Aziraphale looked alarmed, then realised she was talking about Hastur.

"His turn at what?" He asked. "Babysitting" Lenore muttered darkly.

Hastur squirmed "why doesn't Ligur do it, he likes kids".

Lenore wasn't impressed "he likes them to eat Hastur, besides a kid needs its father, you saw what happened when Satan tried that whole hands off parenting thing. Do you want that happening to your kid?"

Aziraphale suddenly clasped Hastur's hand in his, grinning widely and gushing at him "oh, you're a father, I'm so pleased for you, it must be so nice, where is the little one then?"

Hastur pulled his hand back sniffing at it suspiciously and, turning to Lenore, asked "what have you done with him?"

She made a complicated looking sigil in the air and a squid-like creature with huge, pure black eyes appeared, immediately attaching itself to her arm and throwing a couple of tentacles around her neck for good measure.

She did not look impressed. "Hasore, get off me" the thing didn't respond so she tried again shaking her arm, saying in a much angrier sounding voice "Hasore, this isn't funny". The squid thing slithered down to the floor changing shape as it went.

By the time it had disentangled itself from her 'Hasore' stood about 4 feet tall and had become an exact copy of Hastur, complete with unrealistic wig and blinking frog. He gazed up at her saying "s'not my fault, I was only trying to help, s'not my fault he caught fire". At the word 'fire' a ripple of heat seemed to flow out from the small creature.

"See, see what I have to deal with?" She asked of the room in general in an exasperated tone.

Crowley was fascinated, "he looks just like you" he said finally, looking at Hastur.

"Only cuz he knows he's in trouble" said Lenore darkly. "Watch this" she said leaning down to young Hasore and saying "go tell your father what you did". He shook his head, but she pushed him towards Hastur.

As the creature got closer to its father it rippled, changing shape again. This time it was a miniature Ligur that stood before them looking guilty and saying "how was I to know it would catch fire, water doesn't catch fire how's I meant to know petrol was different, looks the same. Don’t arms grow back anyway? Not like it’s permanent damage". 

Aziraphale sighed happily "oh, he's adorable". At the noise the mini-Ligur looked round alarmed and screeched in a very Hastur like way. It then went through several different shapes ending up looking more like Lenore than any of the demons.

Hasore put himself between the angel and Hastur and said "run dad, I got 'im" and threw out a small ball of hell-fire towards Aziraphale. Luckily Crowley had the presence of mind to catch it. The small demon started wailing and ran back to its mum, trying to hide under her skirt.

Lenore knelt down disentangling Hasore saying soothingly "it's ok little creature, he won't hurt you, he's not even as angelic as uncle Ligur, it's ok".

A pair of large black eyes peered out from behind her looking at the occupants of the room. "What about him, he's more demon" said the creature, sniffing suspiciously and indicating Crowley.

Hastur answered laughing "he's less demonic than your mother, come out and say hello little creature". Reassured the small demon moved forward holding a hand out to Crowley.

Luckily Lenore grabbed it before he engulfed Crowley in hell-fire. "Hasore, what have I told you about meeting new demons?" She demanded.

"I can set fire to them if I want to" he said sticking out his tongue. Lenore was the one glowing with fiery highlights now. The small creature looked worried "sorry mum. I must not set fire to new demons, I know".

The fire died down until Hasore added "unless daddy says it's ok".

Hastur intervened at this point pulling his spawn away and saying to its mother "it's not his fault, he didn't mean it. It was a *joke*" he said pronouncing the last word carefully.

Lenore was still glowing with hell-fire and all the demons were concerned. Aziraphale though seemed completely oblivious, saying to Lenore "oh he's beautiful, how old is he?"

Lenore answered "he's nearly six, and should be at school, only he keeps setting fire to them".

Hastur waded in on what was clearly an old argument "told you he can't go to human school, he's a demon".

Aziraphale wondered out loud "he can't have been born a demon surely? That wouldn't be fair".

Lenore caught Hastur in time to stop his attack on the angel. "Calm down beautiful, he's too stupid to understand. Hasore is pure demon you know that". She shook her head at Aziraphale mouthing "don't" at him when he opened his mouth to say something else.

As the three of them stood looking at each other Crowley had sidled round to the little demon. He offered the child a bag which Hasore sniffed at nervously. He carefully dipped one of his tentacles into it, then, smiling widely, snatched the bag away from Crowley.

Crowley sat down on the floor next to him and was rewarded when a sticky tentacle passed over a single red jelly baby from the bag. Crowley said confidingly "I bite their heads off first" taking the sweet from the little demon's clutch and demonstrating.

Hasore considered this, then said "I'd eat their feet first, then their legs and arms and middle with the head last so they can watch me eating the rest of them first" giving a happy smile as he changed into an entirely new shape. He was now mostly humanoid, with a couple of stray tentacles and keeping his father's pure black eyes.

The demon child proceeded to demonstrate his technique with the remaining jelly babies. "I'm Crowley" said the older demon.

Hasore blinked at him a couple of times before saying "I'm Hasore, my mum is Duke of Hell and she says I shouldn't set fire to anyone, but I like fire".

When Crowley looked up it was to see that he and Hasore had become the centre of attention. Lenore said "he didn't set fire to you, he must like you".

Hasore looked at her saying "he gave me sweets and you can bite their arms and legs off" holding a half consumed jelly baby up for inspection.

"Make sure you clean your teeth afterwards" Aziraphale cut in.

Hastur growled aggressively, but Hasore interjected "s'ok dad, he's not a real angel, he hasn't even smited 'im" indicating Crowley "an’ he bites people's heads off".

Crowley hastened to correct this "jelly babies' heads, not real people".

The demon child looked disappointed, then said brightly "I bit someone's head off once".

Hastur growled at him "no you didn't little creature". Hasore looked unrepentant "well I coulda bit their heads off if they'da let me" he explained.

"Right, well I'm off then, temptations don't just do themselves y'know" Lenore announced, already halfway to the door.

Hastur was up and blocking the door in an instant. "You can't just leave me here with him" he said with a genuine note of panic in his voice. Aziraphale wasn't sure if he meant Crowley or Hasore.

Lenore said crossly "I can and I will. It's your turn. I can’t keep sending him to another dimension every time you bugger off, he looks more like the great old ones* every time he comes back". She attempted to push him out of the way. "Why can't Eric look after him?" whined Hastur.

In a voice dripping with sarcasm Lenore said "oh, let's see shall we? Hasore, will you tell your father why Eric can't look after you?"

The small demon did his shape changing act again, flitting briefly through his Hastur-esque guise, via full squid and ending up as mini-Ligur. He mumbled "might've set him on fire again". Adding, as if hoping this would make it better, "only set a bit of him on fire, he wasn't all on fire this time".

Lenore looked triumphant. "Yeah, he 'only' burned his arms off this time. Beelzebub isn't pleased. We can't get a new corporation for him until next quarter". Hastur looked alarmed but said "surely he doesn't need arms, he could manage without, it'll only be a few weeks".

Lenore was shaking her head "oh no, he shrieks if you even mention Hasore's name. Even I'm starting to feel sorry for him. No, Eric can't do it. It's up to you".

Aziraphale cut in "we could look after him". Crowley was shaking his head but Aziraphale continued "you said you were bored, and you're good with children, you looked after young Warlock".

Hastur squinted at the angel suspiciously. Aziraphale waved at Crowley “he really is good with children, if it hadn’t been for my divine influence young Warlock would have grown up totally evil”.

He looked at Crowley, who said proudly “Warlock was ready to crush the earth and all the kingdoms thereof by the time I’d finished with ‘im. Taught him every evil trick known to demon-kind, a complete terror he was”.

Hastur looked suitably impressed, but Lenore wasn't having it "last child of mine that demon had his hands on he lost. I’m not just handing over another one".

Crowley was confused. "I've never even met you before, certainly not looked after your kids and I've never lost a child".

Lenore glared at him "oh, so it wasn't you who lost the Antichrist then? That was a completely different Crowley was it? Hmmm?"

He admitted she had a point "weeell, I didn't exactly lose the Antichrist, just misplaced him, anyway what's that gotta do with you?"

Hastur cut in "Antichrist's mum this is, his birth mum anyway". This particular bombshell stunned them.

Aziraphale took Lenore's arm saying "oh my dear, I'm so sorry".

She was confused "why, what did you do?" Sounding just like Hastur.

It was Aziraphale's turn to be confused "well, I mean the Antichrist, he turned out to be human, normal, there was no Armageddon and well, errrr, I don't know...." he finished up lamely.

"It's him you should be apologising to" she said indicating Hastur "I'm fine with the world not ending". Aziraphale really would have apologised to Hastur if Crowley hadn't stopped him.

Crowley looked at Lenore with an odd expression "so, you're the Antichrist's mother then? I suppose there had to be one. You know he's not really lost, he's living just outside of London, you could go and see him".

She shook her head firmly "nah, poor kid has had enough to deal with without me turning up - 'oh, hi you don't know me but I'm your mum and I wanted you drowned in the fiery lake at birth' yeah, he'd love that".

Hasore, forgotten until now, cut in "did you want to drown me at birth mum?"

Lenore laughed "no little creature, you could swim as soon as you were born, we couldn't possibly have drowned you". This seemed to satisfy him, although Aziraphale gave her a strange look. 

Hasore carried on "so can I stay here then mum? Go on, let me stay, I'll be really bad, honest mum I won't even hardly set fire to anyone at all, not even a little bit". His voice had turned into a high pitched whine and he looked identical to Hastur, even the frog gave a plaintive little croak.

Hastur took Lenore's hand and kissed it. Putting an arm around her he said "if they look after Hasore we could go to the pits. They got some new equipment in" a hopeful note in his voice, "soon have you screaming" he added temptingly.

Her eyes seemed to lose focus for a second. She fluttered her eyelids gazing up at Hastur and sighing gently. He stroked her hair and growled softly, bending down to kiss her.

Crowley was lost at this. The words 'equipment', 'pits' and 'screaming' coming from Hastur terrified him, but she seemed tempted to go with him. Not only that, but she was actually kissing him. Kissing. Hastur. What the actual....

"Ewwwww, daaad, muuuuum" shouted the little demon child. He was on his feet now, looking angry. Presumably he had taken his own shape. A slightly grubby little boy with messy dark hair and deep black eyes. He retained a couple of tentacles, but had human arms with long delicate hands finished with very dirty claws. His cheeks were flushed with what was presumably either embarrassment or annoyance at his parents' behaviour.

Despite his diminutive size and obviously childish demeanour he emanated a kind of buzzing menace. The air around him was getting hotter and a slight swirl of air about his feet sent curling tendrils of smoke upwards. He did not look safe to be near.

Neither parent was paying attention. "Mmmm, pretty pet, you want to play don't you?" Hastur's voice was low and deep.

Crowley shivered. He knew the demon only meant one thing by the word 'play' and it was not a good thing. He felt he ought to do something, but wasn't sure what. The look in Hastur's eyes was pure evil. He could sense a frisson of fear from her, but then a blast of lust.

Suddenly he heard a whoosh from behind him. Spinning round he saw a fireball where the small demon had previously been standing. Shit.

Aziraphale shrieked, flapping his arms in an attempt to get the little fireball away from his books. It was worse than useless as the flapping motions sent sparks flying in all directions.

Hastur came to the rescue, scooping up the little fireball and smothering it in his coat. The flames died and what was left was a small tentacled creature that promptly burst into tears. The tentacles were thrown around Hastur's arms, neck and head and the creature wailed "daaaad".

"Told you he needed his father" said Lenore, a note of triumph in her voice.

"Lenore pet, I know, but...." whatever Hastur was going to say was cut off by the tentacles being wrapped ever tighter around his head. The creature was pure cephalopod at this point. The stream of tears running from its huge black eyes was really weird. Hastur struggled, but found himself bound by more and more tentacles. He was stuck.

"Hasore, play nicely!" Lenore sounded angry and there was an immediate reaction. Hastur was freed from his child's suffocating embrace.

The small demon returned to his own form and slid down to stand next to his father, holding tightly to his hand. Tightly enough for his grubby little claws to dig in and even draw a small amount of blood. Hastur absent-mindedly reached across to pat the child heavily on the head with his other hand.

The red headed demon was curious “how did you, y’know, get demon spawn? Doesn’t that usually involve an incubus, a succubus and an unwilling human host? That kinda thing”.

“Satan had a kid why can’t we?” Lenore announced breezily. “Unless you think Hastur here is a incubus”. Hastur bristled looking very angry. She made it worse by adding “or a succubus” smiling when flames started showing around his head.

“I ain’t no incubus nor a succubus. You take that back” growled Hastur angrily. The small demon still clutching his hand said in a very grown-up sounding voice “now dad, you know you shouldn’t set things on fire, it’s very naughty”.

He looked so serious that even Hastur laughed. “I won’t set your mum on fire little creature, she’d discorporate me if I tried!”

That seemed to satisfy the demon spawn. "You can go now mum, we'll be fine here" he said happily. Lenore once again made a bolt for the door.

"Hey, you can't leave" Hastur cried, quickly swishing a sigil in the air that trapped Lenore just in front of the door.

“What is it with you and babysitting? I’ve had him for weeks while you just wander about up on earth. What have you been doing?” The human, or part human part demon whatever, sounded cross, but also curious.

Hastur looked embarrassed. “You know how you was complaining your house was always full of demons? Said ‘it feels more like Hell than Hell’ with Charu teaching the new pit demons in the library and us storing them tormented souls in the attic, an’ how it is awkward for Ligur not wanting to be around the demons while he’s stuck as an angel cuz they won’t let anyone fall at the moment”.

Lenore was nodding. He took a deep breath and said “I was looking for a new place, somewhere smaller, just for the four of us. With windows cuz you like ‘em and a cellar with room for torments and a pool”.

Crowley could help but interject “a pool?”

“Hasore needs somewhere to swim. They banned us from the local baths when he inked in the kiddies’ pool”. Lenore explained, like this was perfectly normal.

Aziraphale was looking enraptured “oh it’s so romantic, your own place together. Crowley, did you ever think we could…..” he tailed off looking hopeful.

“I did think actually. Was looking the other day, but I don’t think London will do and I’m not sure where to start” the redhead admitted.

Hastur jumped in “loads of estate agents in Hell, was talkin’ to ‘em, they reckon the South Downs is nice. Quiet like”.

He looked hopeful, but Lenore screwed her face up “it’s a bit flammable, we need somewhere damp. Wales maybe?” Seeing his disappointed face she added “it’s a lovely idea though”.

The little demon cut in “I need to swim too even if I do ink, auntie Dagon says I got a ‘water aspect’ like she does, so I gotta swim a lot an’ eat things, well she said ‘eat people’ but you already said I wasn’t to eat no more people”. He gazed up at his dad grinning and revealing a set of very sharp pointed teeth suspiciously similar to Dagon’s.

Aziraphale was observing the small demon with a certain amount of trepidation. “Do you really eat people?” He asked, a note of concern in his voice.

The demon’s mum answered for him “no he doesn’t”. She then conceded “he sometimes sets them on fire, but he doesn’t eat them”.

Hasore said sulkily “only cuz I’m little an’ people are big, wait ‘til I’m growed up then I’ll eat ‘em, or set them on fire, or set them on fire an’ then eat them”.

“A barbecue?” Crowley suggested maliciously, grinning at Aziraphale “that’s a great idea”.

The angel was uncertain “not with people though surely? Sausages maybe”

“Sausages made of people” Hasore said happily, his huge black eyes shining with anticipation.

His dad gazed down fondly at his spawn and was about to agree to the suggestion when Lenore jumped in. “We got work to do, can’t be gadding about the countryside having barbecues when there’s a backlog of temptations. What do you think is going to happen if Beelzebub finds out we’re down again this quarter?”

Hastur sighed “if I helped with the temptations we’d be done in double time. You sure we can’t let them look after him? I’m sure even Crowley couldn’t lose two children”. He looked hopefully at Lenore.

Aziraphale jumped in “we can take him swimming while you do some temptations - we can go to the bathing ponds at Hampstead Heath. I’m sure they won’t notice any ink up there”.

Hasore shrugged “I only ink when I’m startled. It was the silly lifeguard panicking what done it, thought I needed to breathe. Stupid human”.

His father admonished him “oi, remember your mum is part human”. The little demon looked cowed “sorry mum, dint mean you”.

“If you do ink you can be the creature from the black lagoon” Crowley suggested maliciously. The little creature looked confused so he hastened to explain “it’s a movie with a monster in a lake that kills people and kidnaps attractive young women”.

Hasore gave a big smile “dunno about kidnapping, but I can do the killing bit can’t I dad? Please, pleeeaseee dad, can I be a monster an’ kill people?”

Hastur shook his head despairingly “I told you Hasore: no killing ‘til your older”. The little demon looked disappointed. “Maybe if I bring your mum up later we could do the kidnapping bit on her though” Hastur conceded looking slyly at Lenore, a certain glint in his eyes.

“Is mum an ‘attractive young woman’ then dad?” Hasore enquired naively. Hastur nodded happily, smiling at Lenore.

She laughed “alright beautiful, enough of your flattery”. Turning to Crowley she added “we can probably get the temptations done in a couple of hours if you can look after him ‘til then?” 

Crowley was shaking his head half to negate the babysitting idea and half in disbelief they’d actually leave the child with him.

Aziraphale cut in using a stern voice “you’re the one that wanted a proper demon job, looking after demon-spawn certainly falls into that category”. He added in a more persuasive tone “and you like kids, I know you do, especially evil kids”.

Hasore jumped in at this point “I’m evil. Eric was always shouting at me for being so evil ‘til I burned him up”. He added in what he hoped was a persuasive voice “ducks live in ponds don’t they? If we can’t eat people we could eat ducks couldn’t we? That would be kind of evil”.

The angel looked shocked and said primly “we can feed the ducks, we most certainly cannot eat them”.

The little demon looked disappointed, then a truly evil look came into his eyes “we could cut up some people and feed them to the ducks couldn’t we?”

Crowley stopped shaking his head and grinned at the little spawn “I don’t think ducks eat people. We could try peas though, they like peas and we can pretend they’re bits of people if you like”.

Lenore answered quickly before he changed his mind. “that’s all settled then. Hastur you come with me and we’ll get the temptations finished off, then up to the ponds in a couple of hours to collect him”.

“If the creature from the black lagoon gets to feed the ducks can I kidnap you?” Hastur asked, reluctant to let the idea go. He added hopefully “I think the idea is I drag you off and do unspeakable things to you…. hmmmm, bet you’d like that wouldn’t you my pretty little pet?”

He grinned in a way that was not at all reassuring, while behind him Hasore rolled his eyes, sighing at his parents’ embarrassing behaviour. Crowley saw the glint in Hastur’s eyes, his slightly too sharp teeth, his claws beginning to manifest and suddenly very much wanted him out of the shop and a long, long way away from him.

The human seemed to take it in her stride though, replying sternly “you can both kidnap me at the ponds. Anything unspeakable has to wait until after Hasore is asleep though”.

The compromise seemed to everyone’s satisfaction and the two departed. “See you in a couple of hours” Hastur threw out, absent-mindedly taking Lenore’s hand.

Aziraphale looked down at Hasore, who was curiously gazing around the bookshop a smile on his grubby little face. He turned to Crowley “he’s adorable, so cute, with those big dark eyes….”

“Apart from setting everyone on fire and wanting to eat people y’mean?” Crowley reminded him.

“.…just like his father” said Aziraphale dreamily. It wasn’t clear whether he’d heard Crowley’s last comment, but it worked either way, so Crowley didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Great old ones is a Cthulhu reference and Hastur comes from that mythos so it seemed appropriate that Lenore sends the little spawn there when she doesn't have a proper babysitter
> 
> So this is the real-End-End after the previous not-quite-the-End-End. Trying to move on to other things and leave these guys to it now… 
> 
> ….and yes they really did call the child after themselves: HAS(tur)-(Len)ORE - my feeling was that neither would have much imagination when it came to names. Hastur would probably have wanted to call him Hastur (or maybe Ligur) but Lenore would have put her foot down, so they compromised.
> 
> Thank you to the brave souls who read this far - love you all!


End file.
